


Hell and High Water

by Squid_Ink



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: AU-Modern Day, Braddock is the big bad, But I'm the author! You have to know!, COMPLETE!, Connor jumps off a cliff, Connor likes eagles, Damn him, Eagles, Edward cheats at cards, F/M, Go Fish, Haytham loves clam chowder, He's in Florida, How will this change Ziio and Haytham's relationship?, I FINISHED IT!, I detest Lee, I enjoy writing Edward, I found a way to get rid of Lee for this fic! yay!, I hate Lee, I hated being in Florida for the summer, I have NO CLUE!, I have no idea where this is going, I'm so happy!, Jenny is kinda a bitch, Lee worked himself into the story, Newfoundland dog, Nightwish - Freeform, No I don't! Muwhahahahaahahaha! We'll drown together!, OMG! IT IS COMPLETE!, Poor Connor, Shay was fun too, There will be more!, We hates Lee we does, Within Temptation, You're on this rollercoaster same as me!, Ziio tries to talk to Haytham after breaking up, and so was Hickey, baby Connor!, do people even read these tags?, even though it says F/M relationship, father/son bonding, genre: adventure, genre: angst, genre: drama, genre: family, grandson/grandfather bonding, i like Shay, it just got... beyond my control., just FYI, kinda light on the Connorline since they are still kids, no Lee, that's all, the romantic relationship isn't really the main focus, then again I wasn't planning on not having sex completely in this, this story was more spawned out of a desire for happy father-son tales between Connor and Haytham, though it'll get serious near the end, wasn't really planning on it, we'll get back to all the angst and drama tomorrow, yeah this fic got some sex in it now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bostonian lawyer Haytham Kenway always was prepared for the unexpected, at least he liked to think so. Alas, the unexpected has a way of creeping up on people, and he unexpectedly found himself a father to a moody teenager and back in the small town of his boyhood with his cranky father. What he also didn't expect from this case was the rekindling of the romance between him and his son's mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loose Strings

_Eagle's Point, Maine_

They were fighting again. Haytham could hear his half-sister's shrill shrieks and his father's gusty bellows from atop the stares. He was still in his suit from the funeral, though lacking the jacket. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, dried tears still on his cheeks. He couldn't believe his mother was gone. He kept expecting her voice to interrupt the shouting match below and set everything to right.

"Jenny!" Edward shouted.

"Don't you _Jenny_ me, Father! I've had it up to here! All you ever done is run away from your problems or foster them on someone else, that's why my mother left you! And now you're gonna go back out to sea and leave me to watch that brat?" Jenny yelled. Haytham pouted. He never could figure out what he did to deserve Jenny's wrath. He always tried to be nice to her and only got hostile because she was hostile to him first. He gave a firm nod, confident in his own logic.

"That brat is your brother," Edward snarled. "I don't—"

"I don't give a damn about what you want! And he's my half-brother. We only share you as a sorry excuse for a father!" Jenny spat.

Haytham frowned. He rather liked his father, sure Edward Kenway wasn't in the running for father of the year, but he did his best. As far as Haytham was concerned, he had the three basic essentials: food, shelter and clothes. So what if they weren't living the high life? Lobster fishing wasn't that most lucrative career, but it put food on the table, a roof over their heads and clothes on their back.

"You watch your tone when speaking to me young lady! I've done my best to do right by you and Haytham. I may not be the best parent, but I love you both to pieces."

"Right," Jenny's sarcastic drawl drifted it's way upstairs. "Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" Edward shouted.

"Away from you and this shithole of a place!" Jenny retorted back.

Haytham froze when he heard his sister's footsteps leaving the parlor. She was heading towards the stares. Swallowing, he scrambled to his feet and quickly made it set of stares that led to the attic. The house only had two bedrooms. One was his father's and the other was Jenny's. They had converted the attic into a room of sorts for Haytham once he was old enough. He liked it, he could see out he round window to the sea.

His foot touched the first wrung when his sister came up the stairs. "Were you eavesdropping again?" Jenny asked. Haytham gasped, turning to face his rather intimidating half-sister.

"N-No…" Haytham looked away. "O-Only a little. I… I was in my room and I heard you and Dad yelling so I… came out…" Haytham looked at his feet. "I want to tell you to stop fighting… cause we just buried Mom and—" Haytham realized too late that he shouldn't've brought up his mother. Jenny grabbed him by the front of his shirt and punched him squarely in the face. He gave a muffled gasp as she hit his nose, thankfully not breaking it, though it gushed blood.

She pulled him close and whispered, dangerously soft into his ear, "Don't you ever talk about Tessa like she was _my_ mother." Jenny then dropped him before going into her own room. With a sniffle, Haytham headed down stairs, holding the hem of his ruined white shirt to his bleeding nose.

He didn't get more than halfway down the stairs when he heard his father shouting and standing in front of the door. Haytham frowned at the sight of Reginal Birch, on their front porch. White roses in hand and looking all dressed up.

"I'm just here to see Jenny," Birch said, trying to get by Edward, but Edward's bulk took up most of the doorway.

"I want you to stay away from my daughter! Get lost!" Edward growled. Haytham swallowed, debating whether he should retreat and head back upstairs to his room and wait for his father to bring him some clam chowder or continue onward and get caught in the crossfire.

"She's old enough to make her own choices now, Mr. Kenway, and she's chosen me over you," Birch replied.

"She's my daughter and I—"

"Don't get a say in my life anymore, _Daddy_!" Jenny said. Haytham jumped, startled and looked wide-eyed and frightened at his half-sister standing there with a suitcase in hand and folded piece of paper in the other. She stalked down pass Haytham and slapped the paper into her father's chest.

"What's this?" Edward grumbled, opening the paper up and reading its contents.

"I'm legally an adult now," Jenny said, a nasty smirk on her face. "You can't tell me what to do anymore." She plucked the paper out of his hand.

"I never signed no god damn court papers!" Edward bellowed. Haytham winced. His father sure could yell, thanks to his years as a fisherman. Jenny snorted.

"You signed them when you were drunk, of course you don't remember. Now, I'm going to go with Reginal."

"Jenny," Edward's voice softened.

"No. I've made my choice," Jenny said and her eyes suddenly landed on Haytham. "Get your things Haytham, you're coming with me too."

"Wh-what?" Haytham gasped. He didn't want to leave Eagle's Point. He liked it here. Granted, he didn't have any real friends, being a bookworm and all, but this was his home! "I don't want to go!"

"You are not taking my son from me Jennifer! I won't allow it!" Edward roared, grabbing his daughter's arm.

"Let go of me you bastard!" Jenny shouted, struggling against her father's grip. Haytham pressed himself against the wall, sniffling back a mess of snot, blood and new shed tears. He wanted his mother, his mother would know what to do. She would put a stop to this and they'll all sit at the table like they've always done and have clam chowder and laugh. But his mother was dead. They put her in the cold ground. She was never coming back.

_Bang!_

The gunshot jerked Haytham out of his stupor. He watched as his father fell. A hand going to his shoulder, eyes wide in disbelief. "Get your brother!" Birch shouted. Haytham felt his sister's grip on his arm, her forceful yank and he went stumbling after her. He watched, in a strange dream-like haze as his sister dragged them pass their bleeding father, the look of hurt and betrayal in Edward's eyes, before Jenny dragged him out the door and bundled him into Birch's car. The last image of his home Haytham remembered seeing was his father, leaning against the open doorway screaming.

* * *

 

_Thirty-six years later_

_Haytham E. Kenway, defense lawyer._ That was what it said on the business card. There was a little logo on the left, a cross with a set of scales on its arms, with some Latin script encircling it. There was also the address to the building in Boston, his email address and phone number. Haytham watched as his father flipped it over, snorting when he noticed that it was blank. Edward handed it back to his son.

"So ya became a lawyer," Edward stated. Haytham tucked the card back into his pocket.

"Indeed. Birch paid for my schooling," Haytham said. Edward frowned, and wiped the counter of the bar. _The Sea Eagle_ was his establishment that he had been running since retiring from lobster fishing. Haytham looked up and noted the image of his father's fishing ship, the Jackdaw.

"How nice of him," Edward snipped.

"You aren't still upset about—"

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover my emotions, boy." Edward growled as he slapped his hand onto the countertop. "You didn't even put up a fight!"

Haytham swallowed. He tried to forget what happened thirty-six years ago, but it was a rather scarring event in his life. His mother was gone, his sister's boyfriend had pulled a gun on his father, his father got shot and he was dragged from his home. "How could I?" Haytham said. "I was a ten-year-old boy and Birch had a gun. He could have shot me if I resisted."

"You could've bit Jenny and attempt to run for it," Edward shot back.

"I've bit Jenny before. All that ever earned me was a beating," Haytham sniffed. He still wasn't too fond of the beatings he suffered at the hands of his standoffish half-sister.

"Where is she?" Edward asked, his voice soft.

"Turkey, last I heard," Haytham replied. He sat down on an empty stool. "I'm… glad you're alright."

Edward snorted. "If you were glad, you would've made some effort to contact me in all this time you've been gone."

Haytham glanced away. His father was right, he should've made an effort, but after being dragged from his home, he had only wanted to please Jenny and Birch and that meant never speaking of Edward or attempting to contact him. The long years have made it a habit. "I'm sor—"

"I don't want an apology," Edward growled. A grimace crossed his face and he rubbed his shoulder. "I wanted to continue the fishing business," Edward said softly, not looking at Haytham. "I wanted to be able to write _Kenway & Son Fishing_," Edward muttered.

"Dad," Haytham began. He always guessed that if he had stayed at Eagle's Point he would have inherited the fishing business and continued as a lobster fisherman, like most sons in the area did. Alas, things changed. "Dad there is a reason why I'm here," Haytham said.

Edward snorted. "Of course there's a reason. You would have never returned to this little hick town if there wasn't a reason. You probably forgot where you came from after being dazzled by the glorious big city."

Haytham sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Had his father always been this difficult? He couldn't remember. He was still trying to grapple with the curmudgeonly old man his father had morphed into.

"While I was in Boston, I met someone," Haytham began.

"You're gay," Edward stated bluntly. Haytham blanched at the statement.

"No!" he hissed. "I'm not gay. I met a woman, Dad, a woman. She's a Native American, a member of the Mohawk tribe."

"Huh, figured you go for some Asian or European girl," Edward said, he slung the cloth he held over his shoulder before pulling out a beer and opening it. "I'm the owner," he growled before Haytham could say anything.

"Anyway," Haytham pressed on, "her name is Ziio, and well—"

"Haytham!" the door opened and a woman followed by a sullen looking teenage boy walked in. "Ratonhnhaké:ton says he likes it here."

"Who in the bloody hell are they, Haytham?" Edward inquired with a growl as the woman and teenager walked up to the bar. "And what kind of a damn name is Radon-daygabon?"

"It's Ratonhnhaké:ton ," the boy said with a jut of his chin. Edward locked his glower with the boy's own.

Haytham sighed, running his hand down his face. He had a feeling this was going to be a terribly long day and it wasn't even eleven o'clock yet. "I've been trying to tell you, Dad," Haytham sighed, exasperated. "This is Ziio and her son, Raton…" Haytham stumbled over the boy's name, "Connor." He finally said.

"Connor?" Edward looked at the boy with an arched brow. "He an't Irish."

"A friend of his mother's gave to him as a nickname," Haytham explained.

"And why are they here?" Edward asked.

"Ziio is an eyewitness to a case I've taken on at her request. She feels there is a danger to her and Connor, so I brought them here. For the time being."

"I see." Edward looked at the woman. "She must be the woman you were attempting to tell me about?"

"Yes," Haytham agreed with a nod.

"Never expected you to take in another man's get though," Edward said as Connor sat down on a nearby stool. Haytham and Ziio both began to protest.

"So," Connor said, looking at Edward, "you must be my grandfather."

Edward stared, Ziio and Haytham stopped talking and Connor pulled out his phone. Haytham cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Dad, Connor is Ziio and my son."

There was a melodious crash as Edward's beer hit the floor.


	2. Chivalry Isn't Dead Yet

The bar was abnormally silent after the breaking of Edward's beer bottle. Haytham bit his lip nervously waiting for his stunned father to say something… _anything_ really, to break this uncomfortable silence. "Since when have you had a kid?" Edward asked.

Haytham rubbed his face (he has been doing that a lot recently) and sighed through his teeth. "Since April 4th, 2002," Haytham said. "That's when Connor was born." The young man in question glanced up at the adults before going back to his phone.

"Huh." Edward scratched his chin. "And you," he turned to Ziio, "didn't bother to inform my half-witted—"

"I'm not a half-wit, Dad!"

"—son that he had a kid!"

Ziio squared her shoulders and stared at Edward Kenway. "Ratonhnhaké:ton is _my_ son."

"We were spilt at the time," Haytham hastily interjected before Ziio and his father could launch into a verbal sparring match. He really didn't need that. "She had her reasons for not telling me and that's fine." Though in all honesty, Haytham couldn't even fathom _why_ Ziio would withhold such information from him for fourteen years, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, he guessed.

"At least your mother had the decency to tell me when she was pregnant," Edward growled as he got another beer. Ziio bristled ready to reply with a stinging retort but Haytham placed a hand on her arm to calm her.

"So Dad," Haytham began, "do you mind us staying here until I get everything sorted out?"

"You're a grown man, do what you feel is best," Edward said. "Though don't you have to work in Boston?"

"Not just yet, I'm taking some vacation time to make sure Ziio and Connor are settled in here and get a basis for the case before delving into the matters further in Boston."

"Pah!" Edward took a swig of beer. "All legal mumbo-jumbo, I'm sure you know where the house still is."

"Thanks." Haytham forced a small smile to his lips. "Well then," he said turning to face his son and ex-girlfriend. "Might as well show you the house, it's not far."

"That would be nice," Ziio agreed. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, we're going now."

Connor didn't say anything, just turned his phone off, slipped it into his pocket and fell instep besides his mother. Haytham watched as mother and son walked a few feet before turning to wave a little at his father.

"Also," Edward said, stopping the trio from leaving. "If you want food before the evening rush, get here by four-thirty, unless you plan on cooking dinner yourself."

"We'll keep that in mind," Haytham assured Edward, before ushering his little family (could he call them that?) out of the bar.

* * *

 

It was cold outside, typical of Maine for the autumn. Gulls cried mournfully against a grey cloud sky. The briny tang of the nearby sea filled Haytham's nostrils and brought back memories of his boyhood.

"So where is the house?" Ziio asked, as she shrugged into her jacket.

"It's just up the road behind the bar, it's within walking distance," Haytham said, pointing to the roof directly behind the bar. "It's not much," Haytham added. "Oh, and you get my old room Connor. It was the attic."

"Joy," Connor grumbled, looking thoroughly miserable. Haytham sighed. "Can I take a walk?"

"Don't you want to see the house first?" Ziio asked. Connor shook his head.

"Why don't you walk with us to the house then you can go explore, son." Haytham said and slung an arm over Connor's shoulders. He hoped the gesture was fatherly, but Connor scowled and slipped out from the embrace.

"No," Connor muttered. "And don't call me _son_ like it's supposed to mean something."

"I think it's a good idea," Ziio interjected before the two men could start arguing. "Just so you have a familiar landmark."

"It's a small town, _Ista_ , how hard is it to get lost?" Connor protested. "Besides, I can always climb a tree and find my way back."

"Last time you did that you jumped out of the tree and broke your leg!" Ziio snapped.

"He broke his leg?" Haytham's eyes grew wide and parental concern welled up inside him. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for Connor to be going off alone.

"Like you care!" Connor snapped at him, before looking at Ziio. "I was eleven, and I was trying to jump to the next tree over, like they do in _The Oath of the Templar_."

"That's a video game Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio said, her voice none too gentle. "At least do it for me."

* * *

 

Haytham watched the internal struggle pass behind his son's eyes, before the boy finally acquiesced to Ziio's request. Haytham sighed, once more through his teeth, before leading Ziio and Connor to the house he spent the first ten years of his life.

It hadn't changed much. The white paint was still peeling, the eagle shape weather wheel atop the roof was still badly in need of some polishing, his father's old beat up truck was still in the drive way and there was wood in the woodshed. The only thing that was different was the little flower and vegetable garden his mother kept. The patch of earth that use to be the garden was overgrown with weeds now.

"It looks… homely," Ziio said, a forceful smile on her face.

"It's much better inside," Haytham assured her. _At least I hope it is_. He opened the door, which Edward kept unlock, and lead his small family (do they count as his family?) into the parlor. It was exactly has he left it, though Edward had taken down Jenny's picture on the wall. There was a booming woof-woof, and out trotted a shaggy Newfoundland dog. It wasn't the same dog of his childhood, but it warmed Haytham's heart that his father still preferred the breed.

"A dog." Connor looked genuinely happy to see the animal and was the first to go up to it. The dog snarled once at him, but the boy showed no fear, crouching low and holding out his hand, palm down, for the dog to sniff it. Assured of Connor's trustworthiness, the animal allowed Connor to pet him.

"Looks like Connor made a new friend," Haytham observed.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton always wanted a dog. We could never have pets in our apartment," Ziio explained.

"Alright Connor, let me show you your room, don't worry I'm sure the dog will follow," Haytham said and began to climb the stairs, noting that all the pictures of Jenny that once hung on the walls were taken down. Haytham was secretly glad his pictures hadn't received the same treatment, then again he didn't backstab his father.

Haytham pulled down the ladder tha lead to the attic-turned-bedroom. "You'll be sleeping up there." Haytham said and climbed up. "See it's perfectly alright, no spiders or cockroaches." He looked around at the dusty old room. Everything seemed to be more or less how he left it. Clearly, his father had tidied things up a bit, but his bed, desk and dresser were still in their places. Connor popped up beside him.

"You slept in here?" Connor asked, glancing at the ceiling.

"Yes." Haytham gave a fond smile, looking around. "I would pull the ladder up when I didn't want my sister Jenny to come up here. It was peaceful and I could see the ocean through the window." Haytham did another scan of the room, eyes falling onto the bookcase. "My old bookcase! These are the books I loved as a boy, Connor." Haytham picked up a dusty old book. " _The Sword in the Stone_ , oh how I loved this one; I simply adored tales of King Arthur and his court at Camelot."

"I have an aunt?" Connor asked, more interested in this mysterious aunt of his than his father's old books.

"One you'll never meet, she and I never got along," Haytham sighed, setting the book down. "You should be able to fit in the bed; it's a standard twin size bed. I remember it use to feel too big for me."

"Alright, I saw the room; can I go take a walk now?" Connor asked. Haytham frowned.

"Is there something the matter?" Haytham asked, unsure as to where Connor's suddenly hostile attitude came from.

"Stop trying to be all buddy-buddy with me and do your job. Just lock up Braddock so he doesn't try to kill my mother, got it?" Connor growled, shoving pass Haytham and descending the stairs. He gave a sharp whistle and the dog lopped after him. Haytham sighed for the umpteenth time that day and pinched the bridge of his nose. He climbed down the ladder and tugged it back up into the ceiling once he was on the second floor.

"He hates me," Haytham said to Ziio. "All I've tried to do is be nice to him and he hates me."

"Give him time," Ziio assured him. "He's just… stressed and worried about me, that's all. Plus, you've been absent from his entire life."

"Right, right," Haytham nodded, "of course." _Though it certainly wasn't_ my _fault I only found out that he is my son._ He walked a few feet before opening the door to Jenny's old room. "Surprised he didn't lock it," he muttered to himself and gave a low whistle upon seeing his sister's old room stripped bare save for the bed and desk. "Well, this is where you'll be sleeping." Haytham gestured to the bed.

"What about you?" Ziio arched a brow.

"Me? I figured I can uhm… sleep on the couch or maybe get a room at the _Salty Dog Inn_."

"You'd rather get a room at an inn than stay in the house you grew up in?" Ziio asked.

"There's only three bedrooms, and I figured you wouldn't be open to the option of sharing a bed," Haytham rubbed the back of his neck. She may not be open the option but he certainly was. "Ziio, I—"

"I'm sure your father has a cot you can put in here to sleep on," Ziio said. "Or you can just take his bed and he'll sleep on the couch."

"His is a waterbed and I hate those," Haytham muttered, "but I'll see about the cot." Haytham watched Ziio walk around the room a few times, graceful as a willow, but with all the intense ferocity of a she-bear. Ziio completed her inspection before she headed towards him. "Ziio…" he began, but stopped. Where does he begin? Where _should_ he begin? They were both proudly stubborn and headstrong individuals and apologizing had never been his forte.

Ziio paused and looked at him, a slender hand on the doorframe. "Yes?" she asked, her brown eyes finding his own; waiting for him to continue, to say something to make her stay. He could get lost in those brown eyes; the sharp angles of her nose and jaw, her pouty lips and the silky sleekness of her hair, dark as a raven's wing. Haytham licked his lips.

"I'll lock him up," he finally settled on saying. He patted her shoulder as he walked by her. "I promise." He headed down the stairs and towards the kitchen, unaware of the baffled look on Ziio's face.

* * *

 

_Fifteen years earlier, Boston, Massachusetts_

A woman's high-pitched screams drew his attention first, then the sight of the woman being mugged by a mask attacker. As Haytham stared, time seem to slow down, before he decided on his course of action. Haytham shoved is briefcase into Shay's arms before running across the street. "Hey! Hey you there!" Haytham shouted, as he neared the mugger and his victim. The mugger froze, staring at Haytham, which allowed the woman to escape.

"He took my purse!" the woman snarled and was about to lunge at the mugger again when Haytham grabbed her by her arms.

"Easy now," Haytham said, "I'll get your purse back." He looked at the mugger. "Give the woman back her purse."

The mugger looked between the woman, Haytham and the purse before bolting. Haytham muttered a curse and tore after the mugger. Haytham's fancy Italian leather shoes pinching his feet something terrible as he sprinted after the man; he followed the mugger for a few blocks, navigating the twists and turns before the cornered the man and tackled him to the ground.

They rolled around in the dirt grappling for control. Mugger had a knife, which found its way into the meat of Haytham's bicep and then the meat of his side. Haytham grabbed hold of the man's knife hand once he felt the blade bite into his side, head-butted him and pulled the knife out of his flesh. He punched the guy again, this time knocking him out. "Jesus," Haytham muttered, taking the purse from the man. "All this for a woman's purse," he grumbled and headed back, wincing with each step as it jarred the wound in his side.

He was thankful that Shay and the woman met him at the half way mark. "You're hurt!" they both observed.

"Yes, the fucker had a knife on him," Haytham hissed, resting against the brick wall of a building. "Here's your purse." He handed the prize to the woman, while Shay walked off a bit to call for an ambulance.

"Thank you…" the woman paused.

"Oh," Haytham flashed a little smile, "Haytham Kenway." He held out his hand that wasn't covered in his own blood. The woman shook it.

"Kaneihtí:io," she said. Haytham stared at her for several long moments.

"Kana… Gaga… Gad-gotsy-key-oh?" he finally forced out, wondering what language the woman's name came from. She chuckled, seemingly amused by his sheer butchering of his name.

"Kaneihtí:io," she said again, "though just call me, Ziio."

"Ziio," Haytham said with a nod. "I can say that."

"Haytham is an unusual name," Ziio replied. Haytham scoffed.

"It's Arabic, means _young eagle_ ," Haytham said with a one armed shrugged. "Parents apparently read it in one of those baby name books."

"Ambulance should be here soon, Haytham," Shay said, before looking at Ziio, "are you able to stay with him?"

"I'll be find Shay, just go home. I'm sure your girlfriend or whomever is worried about you."

"Thanks," Shay said, setting down Haytham's briefcase and leaving the two alone. Haytham watched his friend walk off, before fixing his eyes on Ziio.

"Take your shirt off," she said.

"I'm alright," Haytham insisted, but undid his tie before awkwardly unbuttoning his shirt. "Didn't know he had a knife, but I've had worse."

"Hmm." Ziio took his shirt and began to rip it.

"That's a five hundred dollar shirt!" Haytham protested, reaching for it, only to grimace at the knife wound in his side.

"I'll pay you back," Ziio replied. "Now hold still," she ordered and began to apply the make shift bandages to his wounds. "Keep pressure on the one in your side. The one in your arm should be easy enough to bandage."

"Where did you learn first aid?" he asked, apply pressure to his wounded side.

"I'm a forest ranger, I have to be able to do basic first aid, plus my mother is one of the tribal elders so she taught me some traditional medicine as well," Ziio replied.

"You're Native American," Haytham said, a bit surprised. "I thought you were Indian… you know from India."

"I _am_ an Indian," a wry smile spread across her lips, "an _American_ one."

Haytham chuckled though he swiftly came to regret the action. "May I ask what your tribe is?"

"Kaien'kehá:ka," Ziio replied as she knotted the bandage on his arm. "They are more commonly known as Mohawk."

"Oh, well… I see that you…" he trailed off when the blare of the ambulance sirens. Haytham continue to focus on Ziio as the paramedics bustled around him, a policeman asking her questions about what happened. Ziio explained and pointed in the direction of the mugger. The cop informed Haytham that next time he decided to play the heroic knight that he should call the cops first. Haytham grinned weakly as he was loaded into the ambulance.

"Can I ride?" Ziio asked, before the paramedics closed the doors. The two paramedics looked at each other.

"I guess," the leader said and Ziio hopped in.

* * *

 

"Thank you again for driving me home," Haytham said. The visit to the hospital was quick. Three stitches in his arm and five stitches in his side, with some pain killers to dull the pain. They stopped off at Subways to get dinner and now Ziio was driving him home.

"Don't mention it," Ziio said. "It's the least that I can do, considering you ran down a man with a knife."

"You were in distressed," Haytham said. "It was my chivalrous duty to save you."

"You know," Ziio said her brow arching, "they say chivalry is dead."

"Chivalry, my dear Ziio," Haytham whispered as he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, "is not dead so long as I still draw breath."

Ziio flushed, smiled, frowned then punched him in his injured side. "Tell that to the judge," she grumbled as he gave a protesting ow.

"Oh you cruel, cruel woman," Haytham forced out between gasps of agony, "have you never read a fantasy book?"

"I'm not really fond of modern literature, I prefer the classics."

"Classics are good," Haytham agreed. "You want to turn left and then head into the garage. I can make my way to my apartment from there."

Ziio hummed in acknowledgment and steered the car into the underground parking garage. She found a parking spot and parked. "Alright, are you sure you can make it by yourself?"

"Yes, of course," Haytham huffed. "It's only one the third floor. No need to get your panties into a twist."

Ziio snorted as she unlocked the car. "My panties aren't in a twist."

"Oh really?" Haytham asked, a brow arching.

"Yes, do I need to show you them?" Ziio snapped back, a playful smirk on her lips. Haytham swallowed as his blood rushed south. He coughed once to get his composure under control.

"No… as… as tempting as the offer sounds, I barely know you. So… I think I'll pass," Haytham said.

"How gentlemanly of you," Ziio said, smiling in amusement.

"Yes," Haytham said then asked, "Do you have pen and paper?"

"I think so." Ziio grabbed her purse, rummaged around in it for a bit before fishing out a pen and a piece of scrap paper. "Here."

"Thank you." Haytham took the offered items. "Here is my name and…" he jotted down his phone number and email, "my contact information." He handed the pen and paper back to Ziio. "Call me or email me. I'd like to see you again."

"Thanks," Ziio tucked the items back into her purse. "I really need to head home now," she said.

"Right, right, yes, of course," Haytham said and let himself out of her car. He waved to her after closing the door before making his way up to his apartment. Haytham chuckled to himself, hoping that Ziio would call him.

She didn't call him or email him the following day, or the next, or the day after that. It was about three months before he even saw her again. It was another unfortunate event to befall her; someone had stolen her car while she was shopping. She remembered where his building was and waited for him outside in the rain. He was shocked to see her standing before the door, soaking wet, twin braids soggy against her breasts. She only had to look at him, before he was taking off his coat and putting it around her shivering shoulders and leading her up to his apartment, where they had dinner.

When Haytham woke up the next morning, the sight of Ziio's naked form snuggled against his greeted him. Haytham smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 Notes
> 
> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> I originally wanted to do the flashback where Haytham finds out he’s a father in the first part of this chapter, and end it with Ziio, Connor and Haytham all having clam chowder, but I decided to switch things up a bit. And no, Connor is not conceived (yet). In my head, Ziio and Haytham dated for about a year before Connor was conceived and the Split happened. This is just the origin of their relationship.  
> Newfoundland dogs are dogs of fishermen, since Edward is a retired fisherman, he has a Newfoundland dog. The dog needs a name, so leave a suggestion in the review if you have a name.  
> Overall I’m mostly pleased with this chapter. The only thing I think I failed on is Connor :/ I don’t know why, his attitude makes sense, it’s just… yeah. Anyway, Connor is a fragile forest creature, so don’t fucking yell at him or he may bite you.Also, Ziio calls Connor "Ratonhnhaké:ton" because it's his name, and Connor is just a nickname, that everyone else calls him. Also the video game Connor mentions is the story's version of Assassin's Creed. Though everything is basically reversed.  
> Save an author; leave a review!


	3. Broken

Haytham ladled out the steaming clam chowder. He was delighted that he found his father's recipe and that they had everything to make the dish. "I loved this as a boy," Haytham informed Ziio and Connor. "My dad use to make it when I was feeling down."

"That's sweet," Ziio muttered, though Connor just continued to stare stoically at the worn table, the dog at his feet. "Why'd you never cook when we were dating?" Ziio asked as Haytham set down the bowl in front of Connor.

"I uhm… don't know. Just never crossed my mind that you wanted me… wait! I did cook for you! Once," Haytham said, scooping soup into another bowl. "That night when your car got stolen and I took you into my apartment. I made dinner, remember?" He sat the now filled bowl before his son's mother.

"Once, but you never did so again. Why?" Ziio asked as she dipped her spoon into the soup. She took a small bite. "This is pretty good."

"Because you seemed happy going out to eat." Haytham shrugged, filling his own bowl. "Besides I had the money." He caught an oozing drip with his finger and licked it clean. "Still good," he muttered to himself as he sat down.

"It would have been nicer if we ate at your place every now and then. I appreciate a man that can cook," Ziio said.

"I don't know why you are even bringing this up," Haytham grumbled as he dipped his spoon into the clam chowder. "It was years ago! If I had known, I would have cooked more."

"No need to get snappy," Ziio griped. "And I'm surprised you would say something like that. Would you have really made time to cook a nice dinner for us back then?"

"I would have! If I know that was something you would have liked!" Haytham said defensively before shoving soup into his mouth.

"You were married to your work! And you rather spend time with that detestable Lee fellow than me!"

"For the last time, Charles Lee and I worked on a few cases together before he moved to Florida! And I didn't know he was such a bigot."

Ziio gave a snort of derision. "You would've noticed if you just stopped and listened to me when I told you he called me an ignorant backwater savage and that he agreed one hundred percent with Hitler."

"He did not say that!"

"He did! You were standing next to me and you didn't do a damn thing!" Ziio hissed, slamming her hand onto the table. Connor jumped slightly and glanced at his mother before going back to quietly eating his soup. Haytham scowled and shoveled some clam chowder into his mouth. He glowered at his ex-girlfriend as he mechanically ate.

"You broke my heart when you left and I eventually rationalized that if couldn't be broken again," he said, "at least not by the same person."

"I had to leave becau—"

"I was proven wrong!" Haytham shouted over Ziio. "You managed to break it a second time, by keeping knowledge of my son from me!"

"Oh, like you cared!" Ziio leaned back against her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "Like you would've cared enough about me and Ratonhnhaké:ton to raise him! You were in love with your career, not me! So, I wasn't even about to tell you I was pregnant!"

"I loved you more than you ever realized! You just had the problem of being open with me and kept closing me off! So, naturally I gave you all the space that you wanted! But your worse transgression Ziio," Haytham leveled his soup laden spoon at her, "is keeping me out of my son's life!"

"I didn't want my son growing up around a father whose friends with a damn racist bastard!"

"Lee moved to Florida in December of 01! I don't keep in contact with him. You still had no right—"

"I had _every_ right!" Ziio shouted, standing up. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, is _my_ son! I carried him, I birthed him, I raised him! You are a selfish bastard, Haytham Kenway! You only cared about yourself back then and you still haven't changed! I don't even know why I bothered to ask you for your help in the first place!" Ziio screamed before storming out of the kitchen. Haytham and Connor winced at the sound of the door slamming; then came the pregnant silence only broken by a plop, when a carrot fell from Haytham's spoon back into his bowl.

"Women!" Haytham muttered before shoving the spoon into his mouth. "Mmmm… good isn't it, Connor?"

Connor scowled and hastily finished the rest of his soup. "You will never be my father," Connor hissed. He left, whistling for the dog to follow him. Haytham sighed, staring at the pot of clam chowder and his half-eaten bowl.

"So much for a nice family dinner then," he muttered bitterly, to himself.

* * *

 

Connor sighed once he stepped outside of the house, bunching his mother's jacket in his hands. The cool briny air filled his lungs and calmed him. Night was rapidly settling in over Eagle's Point, and a light fog was rolling in from the sea. It was tranquil right now and Connor tried to gather that tranquility into him and manifest it in himself. The dog sat by his side and glanced up at him. "Good dog," he said as he patted the animal gently on the head. He went off in search of his mother.

Connor found his mother sitting on a log, not far from the house, hugging her knees and crying softly. " _Mom?_ " he asked, switching to Mohawk, as he walked up to her. " _Mom I'm brought you jacket, you must be cold._ "

Ziio looked up and wiped her tears away, a sad lonely smile on her lips. " _Thank you Ratonhnhaké:ton, you're a good boy_." She accepted the jacket from her son. " _I'm sorry you had to see that._ "

" _It's okay, he needed to hear that. You always said he was a selfish bastard_ ," Connor replied.

" _Don't go parroting me, Ratonhnhaké:ton_ ," Ziio chided as her son sat down next to her. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. " _My problems with your father aren't yours, so don't make them yours too, please._ "

" _Achilles was more of a father to me than Haytham,_ " Connor replied, resting his head against hers. The dog laid down at Connor's feet. " _I don't understand why you had to go to him. There are plenty of other lawyers in Boston that would have heard you case_."

" _Yes, but your father is one of the best lawyers and he said if I ever had any problems… to come to him,_ " Ziio sighed and rubbed her forehead along Connor's shoulder. " _I just thought…_ "

" _Don't worry Mom,_ " Connor whispered, wrapping his arms around his mother. He wondered when his mother became so fragile. She had always been so strong, like a she-bear. Now, she just seemed so broken. He frowned, struggling to make sense of this. The dog must've sensed his conflicting emotions for it whined, and glanced up at him. " _I'll protect you. I'll make sure Braddock never hurts us. And that Haytham never hurts you again, either._ "

" _Ratonhnhaké:ton, you are fourteen. You can't do anything against Braddock._ " Ziio said, though she didn't mention anything about his father.

" _But I hate seeing you like this, Mom! I'm almost a man! Men protect others… good men at least,_ " Connor protested. " _I wish there was a way that I could help you. I hate see you so… broken._ " Connor looked away, cursing himself for hearing the catch of emotion in his voice.

" _Oh… my sweet baby boy_." Ziio cupped her son's cheek. " _You have such a big warm heart. Don't ever lose that you hear me?_ " Ziio said. Connor mutely nodded. " _And if you want to help please try to get along with your father._ "

" _Alright,_ " Connor whispered, " _I'll do it for you, Mom_." Connor hugged his mother tightly.

* * *

 

_Six years earlier_

Connor couldn't find the TV remote. He looked and looked, even taking apart the couch cushions in his search. He found fifty-eight cents, some old candy and lots of lint, but no flipper. He put the cushions back, sighed and looked around. "Achilles must've hidden it," Connor muttered to himself. He wanted to watch TV but didn't want to alert the napping old man to what he was doing.

Sighing, Connor pressed the button on the TV and turned it on. The volume was low enough that it didn't wake Achilles. Connor grumbled something, realizing that he'd have to press the buttons on the TV to change the channel, and as a child of the twenty-first century, that sounded utterly unappealing. Retrieving his apple juice from the end table, Connor sat on the couch and began to watch whatever channel the TV was last left on at.

It happened to be the local news station. Connor frowned; he didn't care about the news. He wanted to watch cartoons are maybe the nature channel. He remembered seeing an ad for a documentary on the American grey wolf. He liked wolves, even had a stuffed wolf he slept with at night. Bored with the news, Connor finished his apple juice, hopped off the couch and went to find Achilles.

The old man was none too happy about being woken from his nap. "I told you not to watch TV," Achilles sighed, grabbing his cane.

"I just wanted to watch cartoons," Connor protested. "I got all my homework done." Achilles arched a brow in disbelief. "Honestly!"

"Hmph." Achilles began to shuffle towards the living room. "That's a first." Though a smile graced his lips. Connor followed Achilles, glancing at the walls and noting the pictures of his deceased son, also named Connor, in his Marines uniform. Achilles never spoke of his dead son and Connor never asked.

Connor made a beeline to the couch when they reached the living room, while Achilles shuffled around looking for the remote. Connor, for the most part, tuned out what the anchorwoman was saying. "…Haytham Kenway is the generous donor to the Boston Children's Hospital—" Achilles changed the channel and the theme song for _The Magic School Bus_ began to play.

"Wait go back!" Connor protested.

"Why? Don't you like this show?" Achilles asked, gesturing to the TV. "You always complain when your substitute teacher isn't Ms. Frizzle."

"I do," Connor said, looking at the ground. He bit his lip before pressing on. "It's just that… the news lady said something about Haytham Kenway."

He must've said something wrong by the way Achilles suddenly froze. "Put that name out of your mind, Connor. Forget you ever heard it. Watch _the Magic School Bus_ , change the channel when it's finished or turn the TV off."

"What's so bad about Haytham Kenway? Who is he? Why can't I ask questions about him?" Connor asked, pouting. He asked his mother once who Haytham Kenway was. Her face got all stormy and she gave him a good scolding before sending him to his room. Ever since his mother let the name slip and had reacted so… mysteriously when he asked about the owner of the name, Connor had been snooping around trying to gather information about the man. It was difficult considering he only internet access he had was at the library and his mother was always with him.

"You don't need to know," Achilles said, setting the remote next to Connor's empty apple juice glass.

"C'mon, Achilles! Please!" Connor begged. "Who is Haytham Kenway?"

"A lawyer in Boston," Achilles said.

Connor huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I already _knew_ that!"

"You asked who he is, so I told you," Achilles said and began to walk away.

"Is he my father? Ista let the name slip once and I asked her," Connor paused, "she got really mad at me. Yelled at me in Mohawk _and_ English. She never yells at me in _both_ languages unless she's super-duper angry!" Connor said and nodded vigorously.

Achilles sighed. "You're like a dog with a bone."

"Ista says that I'm like a wolf with a deer carcass," Connor said, frowning thoughtfully, "though I guess it can mean the same thing."

"I suppose you were bound to find out sooner or later, can't exactly keep a secret from an inquisitive young mind," Achilles sighed and looked at the young boy. "Yes, Haytham Kenway is your father," Achilles finally said.

"Really? Wow… does he… does he know I'm his son? Should I write to him and ask for a birthday present when I turn nine? Maybe I should ask Ista to call him and—"

"No, Connor. To everything. You'll be happier leaving Haytham Kenway alone. That man only brings trouble."

"But…"

"No," Achilles said. "Don't ever mentioned to your mother I told you about him."

"Is he a spy?" Connor asked. "And him being a lawyer is just what he tells people."

"Connor," Achilles sighed, "you have one active imagination." The old man shuffled off. Connor pouted, changed the channel back to the news only to see that the anchorwoman and moved on to something else. Sighing and realizing he would get no more information about his mysterious father, Connor turned the channel back to the cartoons and watched TV until his mother came to pick him up.

The car ride home was silent; Connor didn't dare ask her about Haytham Kenway while she was driving. He didn't ask her about him when she was making dinner or when they were eating dinner. It was only after, when they were snuggled up on the couch, watching the documentary about wolves, did he venture into those dangerous waters. "So…" he began when the set of commercials began to play. "I saw a bit of the news this afternoon," Connor said.

"Oh?" Ziio glanced at her son.

"Yeah and uhm… they were talking about uhm…" Connor stopped, chewing on his lip.

"Out with it Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio ordered. Connor muttered something. "A little louder please."

"They had a story about Haytham Kenway," Connor mumbled watching his mother freeze. "I asked Achilles and he told me that Haytham Kenway is my father."

Ziio sighed. "Yes, that man is your father. Now you know, you'll also never ask any more questions about him. He's not important and he doesn't even know you are alive."

"Why not? Does he not want me?" Connor asked. He swallowed, tears burning behind his eyes as his innocent question met his mother's stony silence. "Ista, does he not want me?" Connor asked again.

"I'm done answering questions about him, Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio said sternly. Connor sighed, mutely nodding and fixed his eyes back to the wolf documentary, but he had lost all interesting in the sleek wolves that lopped across the TV screen. He took a bath after the program and crawled into bed. Ziio came, sang him a lullaby in Mohawk, kissed him good night and left, closing the door behind her.

Connor rolled over, facing the wall and staring at the picture of him and his mother on a summer fishing trip last year; he was grinning as he held up a big fat trout he had caught. He had hoped to one-day put a picture of him and his father up there. Now, that dream was gone. His father never wanted him. Connor burst into tears, clutching his stuffed wolf as he cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 notes
> 
> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> I was thinking about adding more, but it kinda hit me on the head and told me to stop. The italics is supposed to symbolize a switch in language. I'm surprised how quickly this story is going. I'm glad everyone likes it so far. Hopefully I'll keep up this pace and this story will get finished! In the time skip Connor is eight, just fyi.
> 
> Haytham likes clam chowder. Nothing anyone can say will make me change my mind. Until next time!
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!
> 
> Or kudos!


	4. Twilight and Regret

_Boston, Massachusetts_

New England during autumn was a lovely time of year. All the leaves were turning to their autumn colors, the air got cold enough to need a coat but not a bulky winter parka. The scents of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg filled the air and people called around with steaming mugs of hot chocolate, tea or coffee. Children had rosy cheeks and nose tips, as the jumped into pile of crackling fallen leaves.

It was so much better than the miserable sticky humidity of Florida! The coiling wetness that hung in the very air you breathed. There were bugs all year around, and it never seemed to get colder than fifty degrees in January. And don't even think about bringing up the horrible hurricanes and tropical storms that bombarded the state. All in all, Charles Lee was extremely glad he finally moved back to Boston. His Pomeranian, Spado, agreed with a yip.

"I'd be happy to be your lawyer," Lee said, looking at the pink faced man, known as Edward Braddock. "Though I'm curious as to why you think you need one?"

"Some dumb bitch saw something she shouldn't've and skipped down before my boys could… convince her to forget she saw anything," Braddock explained. "Her and her no-good son."

"I see," Lee replied with a nod, petting Spado's fluffy golden fur. "Are you sure you can afford my prices?"

"Of course," Braddock assured Lee. "I have ways of making money."

"Indeed." Lee handed Braddock his business card. "Well keep in touch. I think I'll talk with this mysterious woman as well if you don't mind. See if I can't persuade her to forget about whatever she saw."

"I would appreciate that."

"Do you happen to know her name?" Lee asked.

"Something with a Z… Zahreen… no, Zenovia… nah… Ziva… Zita… Zyanya…" Braddock shook his head as he rambled off names. "Oh! Now I remember!" Braddock snapped his fingers. "Zoey!"

"Zoey? Are you sure."

"Sure, I'm sure," Braddock huffed. "One of my men heard it and told me. Her name's Zoey and I think her boy was called something Irish… Conrí, I think." Braddock added.

"Zoey and Conrí," Lee sighed and stroked his little dog. "I'll have someone from my office look into that then."

"I'll have my people try and track down where she went," Braddock assured Lee.

"Do you know who she may have last been seen with?" Lee asked. If he knew who the mysterious Zoey was last seen with then he could possibly track her through that person.

"Irunno, one of my boys said she was last seen with a sharp looking fellow. Lawyer, he claimed. Other than that, my boys don't know," Braddock said.

"There are a lot of lawyers in Boston. How would Zoey know a lawyer?" Lee asked with an arch of his brow. Braddock shrugged as he leaned back in his chair.

"Irunno, maybe she dated a lawyer," Braddock said, glanced around before standing up. "I'm assuming we're done here?"

"Assumptions are rather dangerous Mr. Braddock," Lee replied softly, smirking slightly when he noticed the Braddock swallowed nervously, "but yes we're done here."

"Right, bye," Braddock said and left quickly as Lee bid him farewell.

Lee sighed, took a sip of water before picking up an old business card. It had the cross scales ringed in Latin script, the name of the law firm with the address and the name: _Haytham E. Kenway, defense lawyer_ stamped on it, along with contact information. Lee called the phone number, only to learn that the number was no longer active. He frowned, wondering when Haytham changed his phone number, before he called the office's number.

"Temple Law Firm, Madaeleine de L'Isle, speaking; how may I help you sir or ma'am?" a woman's crisp voice answered.

"Hello, Madaeleine, my name is Charles Lee; I'm an old friend of Mr. Haytham Kenway. I'm wondering if he's available?" Lee asked.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lee, but Mr. Kenway is currently on vacation and won't be back in Boston for several weeks," Madaeleine replied.

"Really? That's a shame. May I inquire where he went and what his current phone number is?" Lee asked.

"Mr. Kenway doesn't allow me to hand out his contact information over the phone and he didn't tell me where he was going save for that something urgent has come up and that he'll be out of town on vacation for several weeks," Madaeleine said.

"Ah, well. If he happens to call to check in on things, tell him that I called," Lee said and gave the woman his number.

"Will do, Mr. Lee," Madaeleine said and hung up. Lee looked at the phone before setting it down. It was almost eleven at night and he was rather tired. Setting Spado down on the floor, Lee gathered his things, found Spado's leash and clipped it to the little dog's collar before leaving the office.

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine_

Haytham pushed his way through the crowd in his father's bar. Most of the patrons were old men of the tiny fishing town that had nothing better to do than drink and complain of their lost glory days. Haytham nodded to those that recognized him, but he tried for the most part to keep his head down.

He plopped down at the countertop, folded his arm on the smooth wood surface and rested his head in them. He jerked out of his pity-fest by a _thunk_ near his ear. He looked up to see his father and the icy cold beer before him. "What is that?" Haytham asked, staring stupidly at the beer.

"It's a beer," Edward said. "Or would you prefer rum? Got lots of lovely Caribbean rum."

"Why do you assume I want a drink?" Haytham asked, though he curled his fingers around the beer regardless.

"I know that look," Edward said as he went back to cleaning a glass. "Woman troubles. Get plenty of folk with that same look on their faces come through here all the time."

"I'm not having 'woman troubles', Dad!" Haytham hissed and took a long swallow of beer. The bitter hoppy taste of the liquid coated his tongue and burned down his throat. It felt good. He sighed when he put the beer down.

"You drank half o' that in one go," Edward noted, "not having woman troubles, my ass."

"Dad," Haytham whined.

"Do you want rum? Rum always helped me," Edward said, then acknowledged another patron's call for another beer. Edward opened it before sliding it down the counter with practice ease.

"You drank rum whenever you felt like it. It was like what to you," Haytham pointed out and took another sip.

"What can I say, I was stationed at Fort Jackson, Florida for most of my naval career, I got a taste for Caribbean rum!"

"Yet you moved to Maine after you got out of the Navy," Haytham griped.

"You'd hate Florida, Hayth," Edward said.

"It's Haytham."

"Now I know where Connor got his finickyness about his name," Edward laughed. "How's the lad doing?"

"I don't know," Haytham sighed, "he doesn't even so much as look at me. I've tried ever since Ziio came beseeching my aid, I've tried to be a… a father to him!"

"I'll admit," Edward said, leaning against the counter. "I was never good at all the parenting stuff. Though, I think I did okay with you."

"Jenny kidnapped me when I was ten, remember," Haytham replied apathetically. Edward snorted, not bothering to reply to his son's dry comment. The hours ticked by, Edward walked around form time to time to talk with some of his friends that came to the bar, clean up the tables and urge patrons to get home when he saw that they were in dire need of their beds. Soon, it one o'clock came by and Edward bid the last patrons goodnight before closing the doors to his establishment. The only one that remained was his son. Edward came back and poured Haytham a glass of rum.

"I don't know Dad," Haytham finally said, taking the offered drink. "I still love her and I am extremely livid that she kept my son's existence from me for all this time, and on top of that Connor hates me!"

"He doesn't know you," Edward pointed out. "How can he hate you if he doesn't know you?"

"He told me that I'll never be his father!" Haytham took a sip of the rum. "I wanted a family."

"You did?" Edward arched a brow.

"Yes. I wanted a little family. One or two children, nothing more and a wife that… that was my equal. I thought I found that when I met Ziio," Haytham muttered.

"Why did you two break up?" Edward asked.

Haytham scowled and finished the rest of the rum in his glass. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to tell you that," Haytham said and shook his glass. "Maybe another round or two and I'll consider it."

"Just because the house is behind this place doesn't give you the excuse to get black-out drunk," Edward said. "I'm committed to making sure my patrons drink responsibly."

"Dad, this town is so small that pretty much everywhere is within walking distance of the bar," Haytham pointed out. He then leveled a finger at his father. "What… what sort of activities did we do… to… to… bond?" Haytham asked.

"Went fishing one summer, you hated that. Couldn't hook the damn worm and then couldn't gut the damn trout you caught. Tried to get you into sailing, but that was a waste of time and energy," Edward groused and tapped his chin, "I did take you to the theater often."

"There is no movie theater in Eagle's Point, Dad. The closest movie theater is the town twenty miles south."

"Not the movies, boy," Edward growled, "the actual theater, in the next town over. They have an actual theater where they put on plays and operas. Granted they were smaller troupes than the ones in the big city, but still, it was theater. You loved it."

"Theater?" Haytham blinked at his father for several moments. "I don't know if Connor even likes theater."

"Wouldn't hurt to take the boy," Edward pointed out, "he's your son after all."

"Yes, who's been fed whatever horrid lies about me by his vindictive mother for fourteen years of his life!"

"Not my fault you pissed her off before she told you she was knocked up," Edward pointed out, a wry smirk splitting his bearded face. Haytham scowled.

"Hit me again," Haytham held out his glass, Edward slapped Haytham instead. "Ow… Dad!" Haytham sputtered. "What was that for?"

"You said to hit you," Edward said with a shrug. "So I did. Now get on home."

"I want another drink, and why should I? You're clearly staying later," Haytham pointed out. Edward scowled.

"Because I said so," Edward said, "now go on! Get!"

Haytham frowned, but got up. "Alright, alright." He groused, grimacing as he realized he really had to take a piss. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it son," Edward said and flashed his progeny a grin, "I'll put it on ya tab."

* * *

Haytham stumbled up the stairs in the dark. He heard the soft woof of the dog, he really should ask his father what the animal's name was, and Connor's voice softly shushing it. He fell, rather ungracefully into the doorframe of Jenny's old room. He fumbled with the hand, and the door fell magically out of his grasp. Haytham swayed, trying to focus on his surroundings. He finally recognized a sleepy and irritated Ziio. "Ziio!" he cried and flung his arms around her.

"Haytham," Ziio side stepped and watched Haytham stumble into the room. "Are you drunk?"

"Only a little," he replied breathlessly. He swayed on his feet before taking his clothes off. "I'm going to take Connor to the theater," he said as he took shirt off. He flung the garment onto the floor before he began to undo his pants. "And then make sweet guilt free love to you." He stumbled towards her, lips all puckered for a kiss and pants tangling around his ankles.

Ziio snorted, and pushed his shoulder gently. Haytham stumbled and toppled backward, landing on the air mattress he had inflated earlier that day. "You are so cruel to me, Ziio," Haytham said as he sat up and pawed at his hair until the tie came free and it splayed across his shoulders. The moonlight illuminated the streaks of silver in his normally dark brown hair.

"Go to bed Haytham," Ziio said as she crawled back into hers.

"I've been practicing!" Haytham declared.

"Practicing what?" Ziio asked, not bothering to look at him.

"Your name."

"I told you to call me Ziio," she replied.

"I know, but I told myself that if I ever purposed to you, I'd… I'd use your full name." Haytham said. "So I've been practicing."

Intrigued, Ziio said up and folded her arms beneath her breasts, her black hair cascading like ink around her shoulders. "Alright," she said, "impress me. Say my name… correctly, and I'll think about letting you sleep in the bed."

Haytham stared for several long moments. "Okay," he said and cleared his throat. He sat there, trying to recall Ziio's full name before forcing out. "Gogogetsyiio."

"No, it's Kaneihtí:io," she said. "Maybe you can try again once you're sober."

"No! No! I can say it!" Haytham assured her.

" _Good night_ , Haytham," Ziio said and flopped back onto her pillow. Haytham stared, sighed and somehow managed to get into the sleeping back on top of the air mattress.

"Good night… Kanei…" he sighed, "Good night Ziio."

* * *

_Fifteen years earlier_

Their bodies were tangled together, breath coming out in ragged pants and skin all hyper-sensitive and tingly. Haytham nuzzled Ziio's neck. "Kanei… Kaneih…."

"Don't hurt yourself, Haytham," Ziio giggled softly. "I don't mind you calling me, Ziio."

"I want to say your name properly one day," Haytham protested, pressing light kisses against her shoulder, his thumb tracing circles on the top of her breast. "I'll get it. I practice in a mirror every day at work during my lunch break."

"I bet people give you weird looks," Ziio said.

"I don't let that bother me," he replied. He kissed her throat, sucking on the skin. "You're intoxicating, you know that?"

"I've been told that once or twice," she snuggled against him, before shifting to rest her head against his chest. "Hmm… I love listening to your heartbeat after sex," she whispered.

"Really?" Haytham began to stroke her hair. "Why?"

"It's soothing," Ziio replied, tapping out his heartbeat against his chest.

"Oh." Haytham pressed a little kiss against the crown of her head, before resting his head against the pillows, his eyes slowly drifting close. He was nearly asleep when Ziio shifted against him.

"Haytham?" she asked as she rolled onto her stomach and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Hmm?" he opened his eyes to look at her. "What is it?"

"Have you ever thought about having children?" she asked. He sat up at that, blankets pooling around their waists. He didn't reply right away as he rubbed his eyes and yawned, trying to wake up enough to give the question a serious answer.

"What brought this on?" he asked. "You aren't pregnant are you?"

Ziio stared at him, her face wooden. Haytham was reminded of a deer caught in the headlights. He had become familiar with that look on her face, which normally met he was either right on the money. "I don't know," Ziio replied slowly, "it's just a question. Forget it. We can talk about it in the morning."

"No, Ziio," Haytham took her by the wrist. "This isn't a type of leave it for the morning question. I… yes, I want to have a family, but…"

"But? Why is there always a but with you?"

"I thought you liked my butt?" Haytham teased, a small smile on his lips. Ziio merely scowled at him. He sighed. "Let's not make this into a fight about work. We've been fighting about it too much lately." Ziio simply snorted. "As I was saying," Haytham pressed on, "I want a family, but I want to know if _you_ want one."

"If I want one?" Ziio wrinkled her nose.

"Yes," Haytham whispered, his hand finding its way to her flat stomach. He wondered if his child was in there, growing safe inside this beautiful woman that he was madly in love with. "I don't want to force you to have children just because I want them. I want this choice to be both of ours."

"Haytham," Ziio began, "those are pretty words but what about your career?"

"Damn my career! If you're pregnant, I will be there for you. Every step of the way, I promise. I'll even quit and teach law school!"

"You'd do that for me? To have a family with me?" Ziio asked, her eyes wide and doe-like.

"Yes," Haytham cupped her face and kissed her gently. "I would do that for you."

"You're right," Ziio suddenly said, pulling away from him. "We should've left this until the morning. I'm sorry I asked, go back to sleep," she said. Haytham frowned.

"Ziio," he protest.

"No," she touched his lips with her finger before kissing the tip of his nose. "Go back to sleep. You've given me a lot to mull over. We'll take more about this in the morning."

"If you insist," he muttered and pulled her close, arms encircling her waist. "I love you… Kaneihtí:io."

Ziio's eyes grew wide as a soft smile stretched itself across her lips, surprised he had gotten her name right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 notes
> 
> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Boy, I'm onna roll with this fic! You lucky bastards, you! You guys got two chapters in one day! Jesus!
> 
> Yes, I wanted to keep Lee out (he's detestable) but I had a sudden realization that Lee would be excellent for Braddock's lawyer. Then there can be an epic showdown between Haytham and Lee! Who will win?
> 
> I'm not sure about drunk Haytham, but eh?
> 
> Haytham's secretary is from ACIII: Liberations. She's Aveline's stepmother. I was going to use Aveline, but then I remembered her step-mom was a Templar. The law firm was going to be called Templar Law Firm, but I changed it to Temple, which the word 'templar' is derived from. Just to note, all the characters within this fic are from either ACIII, ACIII: Liberations, ACIV: Black Flag, or AC: Rogue (the entire North America saga). I also plan to have Aveline make an appearance later.
> 
> For now, enjoy. Stay tune for the next chapter (probably Thrusday… we'll see.)
> 
> Also, it was fun with the possible names for Ziio, hehe, and Conri is Irish for "wolf king".
> 
> Save an author; leave a review! or Kudos! Kudos are nice too.


	5. The Missing Lifeline

_Boston, Massachusetts_

Charles Lee walked into the bar, even though he knew it was rather late but a hunch told him he'd meet some old friends there. _The Lucky Shark_ , a fancy bar for lawyers, proved to Lee that his hunches were right more times than not; two of his former co-workers sitting at the bar. He walked up to them, a smile on his face. "Hello Shay, Thomas. It's good to see you two again," Lee said, though he really pleased about seeing Thomas Hickey or Shay Cormac again.

Shay and Hickey turned around and looked at him. "Well I'll be damned! Charlie!" Hickey shouted, spinning around to embrace Lee in a hug. Lee grimaced as Hickey squeezed him until he heard his spine pop. "Lookie who's its is, Shay! Ol' Charlie Lee! Come back from the bayou!" Hickey turned to the bartender. "Barkeep! Another round for me an' one fo' 'im!" Hickey pointed at Lee.

"Pensacola, Florida is hardly the bayou, Thomas," Lee grumbled as he smoothed his oat. "How have you been Shay?" Lee asked, turning to look at the other man. Shay Cormac claimed to have been a mercenary doing top-secret missions for various government agencies of various countries in the depths of hostile places. Lee assumed most of those stories were false, but he never pressed Shay for more details, though the only grain of truth from any of Shay's yarns was the knife fight he got into that left him with the scar across the corner of one eye. If any of Shay's tales were to be believed, Lee often wondered what made the man decide to get into law, since his previous career seemed much more exciting.

Shay shrugged. "Same," he replied and sipped his beer. "Why'd you move back?"

"Because I got sick of Florida," Lee said primly as he took a seat between the two men. "I'm surprised the others aren't here. We always use to gather here," Lee pointed out.

"Madaeleine had to pick up her step-daughter," Shay replied. "Pitcairn is on a case, Johnson is out West in Washington State doing some environmental thing, Church moved to England," Shay rattled off what everyone was currently doing.

"And Haytham?" Lee asked, trying to sound casual. Part of the reason he decided to move back to Boston was to repair the relationship he had with Haytham. They were friends in college and Lee looked up to Haytham greatly. Of course, they had a falling out over Haytham's girlfriend.

"What about him?" Shay asked, dark eyes boring holes into Lee.

"What's he up to these day?" Lee asked, accepting the beer from the bartender. He made a face at the bitterness of the brew; clearly, the bartender assumed that he and Hickey had the same taste in beers. Lee squinted at the bartender, the man's nametag was too far away to read and the lighting was terrible, but he noted it started with a D.

"Ya don't know, Charlie? Course not, haven't been here fo' fourteen years," Hickey said as he slung his arm over Lee's shoulders in an overly friendly gesture. "Haytham," Hickey began, though he over enounciated the middle syllable, "has a—Ow!" Hickey rubbed the back of his head. "Whatchoo do dat fo' Shay?" Hickey asked. Shay sipped his beer, refusing to answer Hickey.

Lee frowned, curiosity piqued. "Haytham has a what?" Lee asked.

"A porch," Shay supplied before Hickey could get his bearings and tell Lee. "It's orange and brown. His favorite colors."

"Really?" Lee arched a brow, unaware that Haytham's favorite colors were orange and brown; he always thought he preferred dark colors like navy and iron grey. "Must be a horrid looking car."

"Haytham an't got no porch! Haytham found out he has a kii—aaaah!" Hickey nearly fell off his stool, thanks to Shay hooking his foot around a leg and tugging it towards him sharply. "Are you tryin' to kill me, Shay?" Hickey asked as he regained his seat on the stool. He glowered at the other man.

"That depends on the situation," Shay replied, "though it's best to assume everyone is trying to rid themselves of your horrid company by killing you, Thomas."

"Haytham likes me company!" Hickey said and took a long swig of beer.

"No," Shay corrected, "Haytham puts up with your company, as does everyone else."

Lee huffed; clearly, Shay was trying to keep Hickey from spilling something about Haytham. "Care to enlighten me on Haytham's whereabouts?" Lee asked. "His secretary said he was out of town."

"Indeed," Shay said. "He's in—"

"Eagle's Point, Ma—" Hickey began.

"Turkey!" Shay quickly finished. "Eagle's Point, Turkey. His sister called out of the blue and he hopped onto the first plane to Turkey."

"Eagle's Point, Turkey?" Lee furrowed his brow in confusion. "Never heard of the place."

"Most people haven't, really small town. Near some mountains," Shay said, glancing at his watch and noting that Hickey was having another beer.

"Do you happen to have is number?" Lee asked, " I would dearly love to get in contact with him."

"No, I don't," Shay said as he pulled out some money and sat it on the counter. "Let's go Thomas."

"But I wanna—"

"No, you're drunk," Shay replied, grabbing Hickey by his bicep and dragging him from the bar; Lee watched the two men leave, curious as to what Shay was trying to keep Hickey from saying. Lee, of course, could piece together some of the information. Haytham was at Eagle's Point, which, if Lee remembered correctly, was a tiny fishing town in Maine and Haytham's boyhood home.

The other thing Lee could deduce was that Haytham had a kid. He'd get his secretary to look through all the birth records in the past fifteen years for any child born to a Haytham Kenway. In the meantime, Lee decided he'd enjoy his beer, even if it was too dark for his taste, and in the morning tell Braddock he should send one of his thugs to Eagle's Point, Maine.

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine_

The air mattress shook and a surly voice said, "Hey, get up."

Haytham groaned, hand going to his forehead. He hated hangovers. "What time is it?" he asked wearily, peering up at Connor. The boy was wearing blue jeans and a hoodie with a wolf image on it. The dog in sat in the doorway.

"Ten," Connor replied, hands in his hoodie's pocket. "Ista told me to get you. She has bacon and toast, Edward made you tea."

"Edward," Haytham said as he slowly sat up, "is your grandfather, so address him as such."

Connor rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He left before Haytham could thing of a reprimand. Then his phone rang.

"Bleeding hells!" Haytham swore as he grabbed the phone. "What?" he snapped into the device.

"Morning to you too, sunshine," Shay's voice came through on the other side. Haytham groaned, flopping back onto the air mattress. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He told Shay only to call him if shit hit the fan.

"What the hell happened? Did Hickey piss on a cop car again?" Haytham asked. If so, he was going to ring Hickey's neck for the act and then Shay's for calling him about it.

"Fortunately, no," Shay replied. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"If you are calling me here there is no good news, so what's the bad news?" Haytham asked, he heard Shay sigh loudly into the phone.

"Lee's back. Came to _the Lucky Shark_ last night and started askin' about you. Said he wanted to get back in touch."

"Damn," Haytham muttered. "You didn't tell him anything?" Haytham asked, rubbing his face as his mind reeled. "Why is he back in Boston?"

"Hated Florida, the way he tells it. I didn't tell him anything, but Hickey kept trying, bastard was drunk. I didn't my best to make Hickey keep his mouth shut, but… you know."

"Indeed," Haytham replied, glad he was keeping his cool, then again he always pride himself on his ability to keep cool under pressure, it was one of the things that made him such a good lawyer. "So, damage report?" Haytham asked.

"Lee most likely knows about your boy or suspects he knows. Your name isn't on the boy's birth certificate?" Shay asked.

"I don't think so… Ziio never mentioned it to me and I never bothered to ask."

"Good. He'll have a harder time then, if there is no documentation claiming you to be a father. The second is that Hickey spilled Eagle's Point. Did you ever mentioned the place to Lee?" Shay asked.

Haytham swore colorfully, even throwing in some Mohawk profanity he'd picked up from dating Ziio. "Yes," Haytham said, "at least once. Back in college when we met. We swapped back stories."

"Then he may show up. Your old man's like an ex-SEAL or somethin', right?" Shay asked. Haytham barked a laugh.

"My father was a gunner's mate, hardly anything daring. But I'll keep an eye out and inform my father and Ziio. Thanks for the heads up," Haytham said.

"No problem, see ya when you get back to Boston," Shay said and hung up. Haytham sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his thumb hit the _end call_ button on his phone. His headache was worse now.

He got up, dressed, shaved and pulled his hair back into a tail at the nape. He stared at himself for a few moments in the mirror. He thought about reciting Ziio's full name but thought better at it, not wanting her to catch him in the act. Sighing, Haytham headed downstairs.

The rest of his family, if he could call Ziio and Connor that, were already sitting at the table; Haytham plopped down in the empty chair between Ziio and Connor. "You look like shit, lad," Edward cackled, since he was sitting directly across from Haytham. Haytham simply glared.

"Who's the father on Connor's birth certificate?" Haytham asked as he put cream and sugar into his tea. Ziio scowled at him, miffed about the lack of preamble, she spread blueberry jelly on her toast, while Connor watched the interaction curiously.

"Nobody, I left it blank, why?" Ziio took a bite of toast.

"I… I need to speak with you in private, later," Haytham said. He didn't want to say anything in front of his father or his son, reluctant to alarm them both. "It's important."

"Alright," Ziio said and put some bacon on Haytham's plate.

"If it's alright with you two," Edward began, "I'd like to take my grandson here, out on the open sea for the day. We'll be back before dark." Edward grabbed Connor's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Connor looked uncomfortable but made no attempt to remove his grandfather's hand from his shoulder.

"Oh," Haytham said and could feel Ziio glance at him. "I… I was hoping I'd be able to spend some time with Connor. There are lovely hiking trails around here," Haytham said.

"I'd rather go on the boat. I never been on a boat," Connor muttered softly.

"Ya hear that Haytham! He wants to spend time with his grandpa!" Edward laughed. Haytham furrowed his brow and felt his eye twitch. He couldn't believe his father was making this into some competition about who could spend the most time with Connor. He took a sip of tea and then mechanically ate his bacon, trying to think of something that would be enticing enough for Connor to _not_ spend the entire day with Edward. As he was spreading marmalade on his toast, he remembered Connor expression an interest in eagles, having spotted a pair of the animals on the drive up.

"Well," Haytham said in a dramatic voice, "I guess you don't want to see the Point and the eagle's nest there." Haytham took a bite of toast. He ignored Connor, for he could feel the boy's interest piqued. He swallowed. "I'm sure the eagles will be there tomorrow, hopefully."

"Eagles?" Connor asked. Haytham smirked to himself; he had Connor's interest now.

"Indeed, eagles. Bald eagles, actually, they may have all migrated south now for the winter, but we may still be able to spot one or two at the Point." Haytham sipped his tea. "But if you rather spend the day with your grandfather, you're more than welcome to. I mean, you should spend time with your grandfather, he is rather old."

"Ha, ha," Edward said.

"No," Connor said with a shake of his head. "I want to see the eagles." He looked at his grandfather. "Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it lad, enjoy bird watching you're your father," Edward said and slapped his hand on Connor's shoulder.

"What is this Point?" Ziio asked.

"A cliff hanging over a lake about five miles from here," Haytham said. "It's the namesake of the town. Since it's a favorite nesting spot for bald eagles."

"Cool," Connor interjected.

"You make sure he stays safe, Haytham. I don't want Ratonhnhaké:ton, doing anything reckless," Ziio said.

"I'll make sure he gets home in one piece. It's not like he's going to jump off the cliff into the lake," Haytham chuckled. "It's early October, the water is probably ten degrees or something."

"Can you jump off the cliff into the lake?" Connor asked.

"Yes, the lake's deep enough. In the summer, it's really nice, but we aren't going to do that now. No, no, we're just going to see the eagles and their nest," Haytham said. "It'll be fun."

"You mind your father, Ratonhnhaké:ton, on this little outing," Ziio said and glanced at Haytham, "I'd hate to castrate him."

Haytham blanched, Connor mutely nodded and Edward slapped his knee roaring with laughter.

* * *

It had been a while since Haytham had been to the Point. He got them lost a few times, but Connor's excellent sense of direction helped them to find the Point by one o'clock. "Aquila stay," Connor told the dog as they started to climb the steep slope that led up to the Point. The dog sat, whining a bit as they left her at the base.

"You seem rather fond of the animal Connor," Haytham said. He never remembered breathing this hard when he was a boy climbing up to the Point.

"I like dogs, they remind me of wolves."

"I see, so what do you want to be when you grow up?" Haytham asked. "A lawyer like me?"

"No." Connor shook his head. "Achilles says lawyers are sharks and habitual liars." Connor flashed his father a little grin. "I want to be a vet, and help animals."

"Oh, that's nice. I hope you make it. I her veterinary school is rather challenging."

"I'm a quick study in subjects that interest me," Connor replied. "Did you come here often when you were a kid?"

"Often enough, but I haven't been back here in years." Haytham said. Connor nodded, and they continued the climb in silence. They reached the top a short while later and Haytham instantly felt better as he gazed at the view. He forgot how beautiful it was from this height and it made the climb worth it.

"It's beautiful," Connor said, coming to stand by his father. "It's so serene and peaceful. Oh!" Connor's eyes fell on to the pair of bald eagles. Haytham watched his son watch the birds, noting how Connor's face lit up as the raptors gracefully landed on the nest. The pair chirped softly to each other as they studied the humans, before taking wing, soaring majestically into the sky and angling south for their winter destinations. A loon called mournfully in the lake below.

Connor began to take off his shoes and socks. "Wh-What are you doing, Connor! Put your shoes back on!" Haytham shouted as Connor rolled his jeans up to his calves.

"I'm going to get those feathers. Ista will like them," Connor said and slowly made his way out onto the cliff.

"Connor! Connor get back here!" Haytham said, pointing at the ground near him. "Connor Kenway get back here this instant! It's dangerous!" Connor continued to ignore him. Haytham sighed. "Raton… Ratonhn… _Connor!_ " Haytham shouted, yet his son had reached the eagle's nest and picked up the feathers that the eagles had dropped when they took wing. He gently placed them in his hoodie's pocket and made his way back.

"Hold these," Connor said as soon as he was besides Haytham.

Haytham took the feathers, impressed with the near flawless condition. "What are you doing now?" Haytham asked when he saw that his son was taking his jeans and hoodie off. Connor dropped them on the ground in an unceremonious heap.

"I'm going to jump off the cliff," Connor said.

"What?" Haytham grabbed Connor by the bicep before the boy could move. "You are not doing that! Put your clothes back on and let's walk down like civilized people."

Connor snorted and pulled his arm free from his father's grip. "I'm going to do it."

"You are not! Your mother told me to make sure you didn't do anything reckless!"

"I'm not going to die. There's a cliff like this on the reservation and I've jumped off it before. I know what I'm doing," Connor said. "Plus I know how to dive and to swim and how to tell if there are rocks below. They're aren't, so its fine."

"I don't care if you're jumping into a puddle! You are not jumping of that—" Haytham stopped when his nearly naked son sprinted head long towards the eagle's nest. Haytham bolted after Connor, but the boy was faster and leapt off the cliff gracefully. "Cliff," Haytham said, getting down on his knees. He clutched the ground with one hand while his other held the eagle feathers. He watched with sickening horror as Connor free fell through the air and dove gracefully into the ice-cold water. "Well, at least the lake isn't frozen," Haytham grumbled. He held his breath waiting for his son to break the surface.

Connor did so after a few moments. "Whoo-hooo! Oh yeah!" Connor shouted, punching the air. He tossed his head back, let out a victory whoop, and shouted something in Mohawk. Haytham breathed a sigh of relief and tentatively waved back at Connor when his son waved at him. Haytham scrambled away from the cliff, gathered Connor's clothes and quickly made his way down the slope.

* * *

He reached the lakeshore just as Connor was climbing out of the water. "Did you see me? Did you see me dive, Dad?" Connor asked, jubilant despite his blue lips and the shivers that shook his body. "We have to come back here for the summer. So you can do it too and maybe Ista. You did watch me right?"

 _He called me dad_. Haytham thought, a smile tugged at his lips but he pushed his joy away. "Take those wet things off and put these dry clothes on and let's get back," Haytham said as he handed Connor his dry clothes. He averted his eyes as his son stripped off his wet boxers and tee shirt.

"You still haven't answered my question," Connor said when he had changed his clothes.

"Hmm?" Haytham took the wet clothes from the boy. "What question?"

"Did you watch me?" Connor asked, giving his father an imploring look.

"Of course I watched you! You bloody well gave a heart attack!" Haytham shouted. "Let's get home, and don't breathe a word about… then again, you are wet so your mother will find out anyway. She'll have my hide regardless of what I say."

"She'll like the feathers," Connor assured Haytham.

"For my sake, I hope you're right," Haytham said. He handed his son the feathers before shrugging out of his coat. "Put this on, I don't want you to catch your death." Connor chuckled.

Haytham was waiting for the horrified look on Ziio's face when they came home. She only had to look at Connor's wet hair before she started yelling at Haytham in a mix of English and Mohawk. "It was his idea," Haytham said, trying to defend himself. He was doing a rather poor job of it considering his profession basically was arguing against unreasonable people.

"I don't you not to let him do anything reckless!" Ziio shrieked. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, what happened?" Ziio turned to her son. Haytham frowned, not likely the fact that Connor could basically spin a horrid tale of how cruel Haytham was to his mother and Ziio would never bother to question her child.

"Haytham and I went to the Point," Connor said, "a pair of bald eagles landed in the nest and I collected some feathers for you." Connor presented his mother with the eagle feathers.

"Oh, wow. They are so beautiful and in such excellent condition too." Ziio admired the feathers, ignoring for the moment the fact that her son was still wet and shivering. "How did you get wet?"

The largest grin Haytham had ever seen on the boy split across his face. "I dove of the cliff. It was awesome!" he said, sounding like any typical fourteen-year-old boy that successfully completed a daring feat. Ziio, like any mother, frowned.

"Did you try to stop him? He could've gotten hurt! Split his head open on a rock? _Died!_ " Ziio shouted, her furious gaze on Haytham as she wrapped her arm around her son protectively. She held him close despite the fact Connor was a few inches taller than her. "This is _our son!_ And you just let him _jump off a cliff?_ "

"I didn't let him do it," Haytham snapped. "He went ahead and did it before I could talk any sense into him!"

"You're his father!" Ziio turned to her son. "I told you to listen to him, Ratonhnhaké:ton!"

"Ziio, lass," Edward said, coming over to them. He pressed a mug of steaming hot coco into Connor's hands. "Drink," he told his grandson. "The lad's find. Every boy is gonna disobey his father at some point. From what you've told me of Connor, taking him to the Point and telling him not to jump off the Point is like telling someone not to look down when they are climbing up to the crow's nest," Edward said, "that being they're gonna do it, even more so if you tell them no."

"Connor needs to get inside," Haytham said, before Ziio could argue with Edward, he didn't want to see his father and ex-girlfriend go at it, since he knew that neither would give in. "And I need to talk to Ziio about something."

"Alright." Edward nodded. "C'mon Connor, let's get you inside and warm. Don't need you catching your death from cold." Edward said as he patted his grandson on the shoulder. The boy followed him into the house.

"What do you need to talk to me about?" Ziio asked, once Edward and Connor were inside. Haytham set Connor's wet things on the railing of the porch.

"Walk with me," Haytham said. Ziio cocked her head and followed him. He led her through the town before going along a game trail into the forest. They walked in silence through the woods, until Haytham stopped at a moss-covered boulder. "Go ahead, sit, sit," he said, gesturing to the large rock. Ziio said, twirling an eagle feather between her fingers. He sat down next to her.

"I tried to stop him, I truly did," Haytham said. "It just happened so fast and… I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Ziio said. "I overreacted. He's a strong swimmer. He cliff dives at the reservation during the summer."

"He told me," Haytham said. "He'll be alright."

"I know he will, but I'm still going to give him a good lecture when we get back," Ziio said.

"I doubt that it'll work, but…" Haytham shook his head. "I'm getting off topic," he said. Ziio began to weave an eagle feather into his ponytail. "Shay called."

"Shay Cormac? You work with him, right?" Ziio said, not taking her eyes off of her work.

"Yes. He and I are close friends. I told him to call me if any issues came up in Boston that needed my attention."

"And?" Ziio asked. Haytham sighed, knowing that tone of voice. He heard it before, when they were dating and something work-related always came up that demanded his attention.

"It's bad," Haytham said.

"Haytham, get to the point."

"Charles Lee is back," Haytham looked at his knees. His jeans had mud stains on it from peering over the side of the cliff earlier. "He ran into Shay and Thomas Hickey at a bar last night. Hickey was drunk enough that Lee was able to get some information out of him."

"What sort of information?" Ziio asked, her hands stopping, though not letting go of Haytham's hair. Haytham looked at her.

"Lee knows I'm here and he knows about Connor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Dun-dun-duuuuuh!
> 
> No flashback this chapter, but definitely in the next chapter. I'm a bit torn between doing Haytham and Ziio's breakup flashback or what life was like for poor Connor without his dad.
> 
> Just to clarify things a bit, Ziio lives in the suburbs of Boston, while her family lives on the reservation. They go to the reservation every summer.
> 
> My original idea was for Haytham and Connor to go see the eagles and have a nice father-son bonding moment, then I got this crazy idea of Connor jumping off the cliff and went "yeah! Totally awesome! He'd do it just to spite Haytham!" And that's what he did.
> 
> I didn't want to use bald eagles for the eagles, but according to my North American bird book, bald eagles are the only eagle who's range includes Maine. And they only go to Maine during the summer. Since it's early October they are migrating south (Mass. is a winter destination for the birds), so it was lucky that Haytham and Connor say them.
> 
> I have more ideas, including a possible ending, in mind for this fic. I definitely enjoy writing this, I hope you guys enjoy reading it, please tell me if you do!
> 
> Read story 14 of The Eagle and the Cross series, as it gives background on Shay.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review.


	6. Cut Me and I'll Bleed Forever

There was a light mist in the forest that brought with it the fresh scent of clean things. A squirrel chattered somewhere in in the branches overhead and a chickadee's raspy shrill cry of _chick-a-dee-dee-dee!_ echoed throughout the suddenly still forest.

All of it, Ziio ignored. The world seemed to fall away, until it was just her and the painful echo of her heartbeat in her ears. She could only think about Charles Lee, the fact that he was back and knew about her son.

She took a shake breathe, then another before closing her eyes, trying to call up Ratonhnhaké:ton's face, but only got horrors of her past: The death of her brother, Edward Braddock getting off scotch free on his murder, Charles Lee threatening her to break up with Haytham…

"Ziio… Ziio… _ZIIO!_ "

Ziio opened her eyes and the world began to spin once more. Someone held her hand tightly and another hand was on her shoulder. "Ziio are you alright?"

Ziio turned to see Haytham staring at her intently with those rain cloud grey eyes of his. His silver streaked brown hair pulled back into a low tail and an eagle feather dangling haphazardly near his ear. "Ziio," he said again.

"Lee's back," she forced out. "Why did he come back?" she had never liked Lee. Even when Haytham had introduced her to the man, she got the impression of a snake. Plus, he had an unhealthy obsessed with Haytham as if anything that could distract Haytham from being the best lawyer possible should be destroyed down to the atomic level.

"Shay told me he got tired of Florida," Haytham said with a shrug.

"Do you think Braddock asked him to e his representative?" Ziio asked, her skin crawling at the mere thought of both of those horrid men in the same courtroom and Lee questioning her on the witness stand. By the expression on Haytham's face, the thought never occurred to him.

"Probably," Haytham said. He groaned and rubbed his face. "This is just a wonderful mess."

"I'm sorry. I'll just get a bus ticket to Canada for Ratonhnhaké:ton, and myself. I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble."

"No," Haytham said sharply, locking eyes with her, "you and Connor are doing no such thing. Leave Lee and Braddock to me."

"Can you really win against Lee?" Ziio asked. All the lawyers at Haytham's firm were excellent (expect maybe Hickey), many of their clients were rich and famous people. She had no doubt Lee was a good lawyer as well.

"I can…" Haytham said, though Ziio didn't think he sounded very confident, which was a bit strange. She always knew him as a man that went for the jugular.

"It's because he is your friend," Ziio said. Haytham sighed, and looked at her.

"The relationship between myself and Charles is… strange. He's a brilliant man, very dedicated to his work, but he's… heartless, ruthless and will play dirty."

"Oh, like you haven't done that before?" Ziio scoffed. "The Haytham Kenway I remember was brutal in pursuing his goals. He was a very ambitious man." Ziio watched him; he was smiling at little.

"Indeed, and I still am… but, I approach achieving my goals and differently than Lee." Haytham looked at her. "I understand that patience is required sometimes."

"Haytham," Ziio whispered, feeling her breath catch in her throat. He was stroking her cheek with a feather light touch and she allowing herself to be pulled slowly towards his seduction. This man before her was so dangerous. All too often Ziio found herself struggling with her moral conviction. She had always seen the world in blacks and whites, good and evil. There were good people and bad people, heroes and villains. No in between.

Then Haytham Kenway came along, a wonderfully disastrous multitude of grey shades and he utterly destroyed her happy simple view of a black and white world. Ziio couldn't help but feel like a moth drawn to a flame, the sheer forbidden aspect of seeing a world made up of grey. Ziio leaned towards him, wanting him more than ever. She had always felt safest with him, despite his myriad of contradictions.

He was a lawyer but a good man. He defended horrid wicked people that had committed gruesome crimes, yet he donated to children's hospitals and took part in Habitat for Humanity projects and other charitable activates. Gorgeous contradictions, he was her beautiful disaster.

Ziio put her hand against his chest, stopping him from completing the kiss and breaking the spell. She didn't want to drown in the maelstrom that was Haytham Kenway.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice so soft she almost missed it despite the quite forest. Ziio couldn't look at him, not just yet. If she looked at him her resolve would vanish and she would kiss him, maybe even do more than kiss him. No, she couldn't. He was wrong for all the right reasons, yet coincidently enough he was right for all the wrong reason.

"We should get back," Ziio whispered, fidgeting with her jacket's zipper. Haytham nodded but he didn't get up.

"Ziio, were you—"

"It's getting dark, let's go," Ziio said and stood but Haytham caught her wrist in a gentle grip.

"Were you ever going to tell me about our son?" Haytham asked as he stood up. Ziio stared at him, pulled her wrist free and walked back along the path they took.

* * *

_Fourteen years earlier_

"We'll just take him for a moment, and you can help us fill out the birth certificate," the nurse said as she scooped up Ziio's newborn son to be weighed and measured. Another nurse came by with a clipboard.

"Hello," the new nurse said. Ziio smiled weakly, worn out from the birth. "He's beautiful by the way."

"Thanks." Ziio smiled, already proud of her minutes old son.

"First order of business is the child's name," the nurse said. Ziio sighed, for she had thought long and hard about a good name for her baby.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," she said. The nurse stared. "Did you hear me? I said his name is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

"Yes, but… ma'am… how do you even say that?" the nurse said. Ziio rolled her eyes and mumbled something in Mohawk about stupid people.

"Give me the clipboard, I can write. I gave birth, I'm just tired, not made of glass," Ziio said and snatched the clipboard and pen from the baffled nurse. She gave the man a glare that sent him leaving rather quickly. Ziio looked at the piece of paper. She took a deep breath before writing out her son's name. She considered leaving the slot for a second name blank but wrote Connor down. She smiled to herself remembering how Achilles had said that if she had a boy he'll just call him Connor if she gave him some strange name. Last came the family name.

Ziio hesitated, pen poised above the paper. She could put down her own family name but that just didn't feel… _right_. Yet, if she put down Haytham's then they may question why she left the father slot blank. Ziio snorted and filled in the rest of the birth certificate. "I'm finished," she told the nurse handing the clipboard and pen.

The man glanced at it, making sure everything is in order. "Are you sure you don't want to put down a father?"

"Positive. Everything I wrote down I'm sure about," Ziio said and looked at the man. "That's my son's name."

"Very well," the man said and left to fill in weight and length for the form. Ziio sighed wondering what was taking so long for them to bring back her son. She didn't wait long for the first nurse to come back with Ratonhnhaké:ton (how strange it was to be calling him that and how perfectly it fit him) wrapped up in a blue blanket with a little blue cap on his head.

"There you go," the nurse said. "We're going to move you to a new room now." Ziio simply nodded, fascinated by her son's tiny face. It looked some root vegetable, but she didn't care. He was perfect in all his smallness.

" _Hello Ratonhnhaké:ton_ ," she whispered in Mohawk, not wanting the nurses to overhear as they pushed her bed into another, quieter, room. " _I'm your mama_." Ziio kissed her little son's forehead gently. " _I already love you so much. You have so much potential. So much ahead of you… I can't wait to see you grow up._ " The baby didn't say much, simply made a soft little coo and snuggled closer towards her heartbeat. Ziio sniffed back tears, wishing she could share this moment with someone.

Her thoughts instantly went to her son's father. She should call him, tell him about this brand new life she held in her arms. No, this was her moment with _her son_ , and nobody else would take it from her. " _You don't need him Ratonhnhaké:ton,_ " Ziio whispered. " _We don't need him_."

* * *

"You should tell him," Achilles said for the umpteenth time since he picked her up from the hospital earlier that day. "He has a right to know."

"I'm not calling that man," Ziio said, her voice stern but soft. She tsked softly. "Ratonhnhaké:ton, fell asleep eating again," she murmured and tucked herself back into her bra and snuggled down for a nap with her baby. She looked up when Achilles' set her cell phone down on the table.

"If you change your mind," the old man said, "Haytham has a right to know about his son."

"Haytham has no part in Ratonhnhaké:ton's life," Ziio hissed as Achilles walked away. Ziio snorted, stroking Ratonhnhaké:ton's down black hair. It was rather thick for an infant. Ziio closed her eyes, trying to doze but the phone nearby kept nagging at her. She looked at it, sleek and innocent on the table. It was a new phone but she had put Haytham's number in… for what exactly she couldn't remember.

There was a part of her that long to reconcile with him, especially now with her small son in her arms. She'd seen him with children before, he was rather patient with them and she got the sense he'd be a really good father. That is, if he could bother to actually tear himself away from his work for five minutes!

Ziio sighed, blowing some hair out of her face. Her hand went to the phone, seemingly on its own, she scrolled through her contacts list until she stopped at Haytham's name. She stared at it for several long moments, before highlighting his name and hitting the call key. Ziio pressed the phone up to her ear. It rang three times and she was about to hang up when he answered.

"Hello? Hello? Who is this, I'm afraid I don't recognize your number," Haytham said on the other end. The mere sound of his voice caused Ziio's breath to catch in her throat. She hadn't heard it in so long and he sounded just as she remembered. "Hello? Is anyone even there?"

Ziio sniffed, licking her lips, tasting salt, and realization dawned on her that she was crying. She pulled her son closer to her. "I'm going to hang up now," Haytham said, "whomever you are, please don't call this number again."

"Haytham…" Ziio breathed, her voice choked with tears and so soft that she doubt he heard her through the phone.

"Ziio?" he asked, apparently having heard her soft speaking of his name. "Ziio is that you? Ziio, answer me? Are you all right, is something matter? Have you come to your senses so we can discuss our problems like civilized people in a civilized society?"

A sob broke free from her and her distress must have transferred to her baby, for her little son began to cry as well. "Is that a baby? Ziio! What's going on? Where are you? Tell me where you are and I—" Haytham's voice was cut off as Ziio swiftly ended the call and threw her phone to the other side of the couch. Tearfully, she cuddled her son, trying to soothe him and herself.

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine – Present day_

Connor stared at his cards. He almost had all the sixes; he just needed one more. He pulled the blankets around him tighter, his back to the fire. He was pleasantly warm now after his impromptu swim. "Got any sixes?" Connor asked. He watched his grandfather frown, eyes skimming his cards.

"Go fish," Edward said. Connor frowned as he took a card from the dwindling stack in the middle only to scowl as he realized he drew a Queen of Hearts. He didn't want that, he wanted the six of spades!

"Gotta Queen of Hearts?" Edward asked. Connor's scowl deepened as he tossed the card at his grandfather. "Thank'ee kindly," Edward said and put the stack of four cards on his growing pile. Connor looked at his pile of two and groaned.

"How come you're so good at this?" Connor asked, frustrated that this would be the fifth game of go fish that he lost.

"Pirate," Edward said with a wink and a grin. Connor huffed in annoyance and tapped his cards. "Nah lad, I've just played this game a lot. You'll win against me one day."

Connor frowned and tried to ready a snapping retort when the door opened. "Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Ziio called.

"Ista! Over here!" Connor shouted. His parents appeared soon after and he heard his father sigh. "I'm playing go fish," Connor said, though frowned.

"Really? You don't say," Haytham said.

"Grandpa Edward keeps winning though," Connor grimaced. Haytham leaned towards his father to peek at his cards.

"Now, now Haytham," Edward said, pressing the cards to his chest, "ya an't plain' so no peekin' and tellin' the lad."

"Haytham?" Connor asked when he heard his father snort.

"Like honesty ever stopped you at card games," Haytham turned to Connor, "he has three sixes."

Connor's jaw dropped. He scowled and tossed the cards down. "I quit," he said, and spotted his mother in the kitchen. "C'mon Aquila, let's go help Ista." He stood up and headed towards the kitchen. Aquila yawned and stretched before following Connor, her fluffy tail wagging as she walked.

"Aw, way to ruin a harmless game of cards, Haytham," Edward grumbled as he gathered up the cards. "Ya always were a killjoy." Edward began to shuffle the cards with expert skill.

"You are a notorious cheat when it comes to cards," Haytham pointed out, arms folded over his chest. "And that's just low to cheat at go fish when playing with your grandson."

"Pish-posh," Edward flicked his hand in dismissal, "the lad is gullible as a fish. Needs to learn the world isn't far an' life an't black an' white." Edward eyed his son before continuing, "better he learn it from his grandpa cheatin' at cards than getting' swindled an' losin' his entire life savings when he's thirty-five. At least the only injury he sustained was some bruised pride." Edward said as he stared to play a game of solitaire.

"It's the concept!" Haytham said. "But…. Why should I even bother! You won't change. I'm starting to think Jenny was right about you," Haytham said.

"If ya want to hurt me don't bother," Edward grumbled. He pointed to the door. "The door's there, you can show yourself out an' go back to Boston. I'll keep an eye on Ziio an' Connor. Don't need your help doin' it."

Haytham sighed. "Don't you have a pub to run?" he asked.

"Took the day off. Besides there's another one bar in town, so it's not like my patrons will not get their booze."

Haytham rubbed his face. "Dad…"

"Haytham, I need your help," Ziio called. "Connor can't reach the pepper and neither can I."

Haytham opened his mouth to decline, glanced at his father before closing it. "Alright," he conceded. "Move, I'll get the pepper." He walked towards the kitchen, leaving his father to his card game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> I wanted to include Lee and Braddock doing bad guy things, but I realized that I was forcing the chapter to continue for the sake of length. I have a decent concept of chapter 7 now.
> 
> This chapter was hard, cause I get to school 2 hours before my first class starts, so I've been working on this fic in my Big Writing Journal of Awesome. Normally what I write in that two hour block becomes the new chapter. Well… I had a lot of different ideas that didn't work well together, so I spent most of the day reorganizing everything. Now I'm pretty satisified with how everything turned out.
> 
> I find writing Ziio rather hard. I've actually found writing women recently (like the last five years) rather difficult. Probably because I've interacted with men a lot due to the Navy, so I have a better grasp of writing men than women. Regardless, I do like the first two parts of this story.
> 
> Edward is a notorious cheat when it comes to cards. Also, I'm planning to do one chapter solely dedicated to the Break-Up Event of Haytham and Ziio. The story requires it. There is just… it just needs its own chapter.
> 
> Remember, I am going to school, so while I seem to be able to do daily chapters, this may not always be the case. Please be patient, I will get the chapter up. That being said, I hope you like it.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Guesses as to what last name Ziio put down on Connor's birth certificate.


	7. End All the Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: In Which the Bad Guys do Bad Things

_Boston, Massachusetts_

 

_Brrrring! Brrrrring! Brrrrring!_

The phone was ringing somewhere in the office, and the sound only grated on Lee's already frayed nerves. The city of Boston was clearly ran by a collection of incompetent morons! It's 2016 and none of the birth records were uploaded to a digital format! Meaning he was shifting through piles of paperwork searching for one name! He'd been at this hunt since eight-thirty this morning and still wasn't any closer to finding any child born to a Haytham Kenway (or any plausible combination of rewriting Haytham's name)!

"Sir, it's the football player," his secretary said. Lee frowned, not wanting to deal with celebrities, who were, in his humble opinion, whiny overgrown children.

"Tell him I'll call him back when I have more information," Lee said. His secretary nodded and left his office. The man sighed in annoyance, running his fingers through his hair. Nowhere was there any sign that Haytham fathered a child! Maybe Hickey had been lying; that man was rather drunk after all. Lee frowned, since that didn't make sense. Why would Hickey lie? The man had always been a rather honest drunk, if obnoxious. No, somewhere in this mount of fifteen years worth of birth certificates was the one belong to Haytham Kenway's mystery child.

"Maybe I should search for the mother," Lee muttered, but thought better of it since he had no idea what the mother's name was or if Haytham's fabled child had been to that Indian woman, he fancied. If the child was also that Indian woman's then the child could have been born on one of the reservations. "Then I will never find it," Lee grumbled, since he doubted any of the nearby reservations would give him access to their birth records without some court order. He hated to admit it, but he was at a dead end.

"Damn it!" Lee swore as he rested his head in his hands. His elbow shifted a stack of papers slightly. Lee glanced down, seeing at first nothing worth his time, and then he spotted it: A named or at least part of it. Could it be the elusive Kenway name he'd been searching for for the past six hours? Lee calmly wiggled the piece of paper out of the stack. His eyes grew wide for in his hand was a birth certificate from Boston General Hospital. Dated for April 4th, 2002 at 8:05 am, a boy was born to a woman named Kaneihtí:io. The child was healthy and of average weight and length for a newborn. The name of the doctor who delivered the child and the nurse present were also on the form. Curiously, there was no name for the father and it was marked _unknown_. Yet, the thing that held Lee's attention was the child's name: Ratonhnhaké:ton Connor Kenway.

"Found you," Lee whispered, knowing that there was no doubt that this child was Haytham's son. He had a name to give Braddock before he sent one of his goons to Maine. Maybe this entire thing wouldn't even have to see a court room. If he could somehow use the boy for leverage, the mother at least would agree to anything to save her son and may convince Haytham to back down. It was a dicey move, since the Haytham Kenway, Lee remembered was never moved by sentiment. Lee pressed a button on his phone. "Amanda, get me Braddock. I've found something he'd be pleased with," Lee said with a malicious grin on his lips.

* * *

 

_Seven years earlier_

"And that's why we never run around with scissors in our hands," the man, at the front of the classroom full of second graders, said. Connor stared at the doctor before clapping along with the rest of his classmates. A little girl at the front gave the man a hug as he left. Connor felt a pang of jealousy slice through him. All the other kids had their fathers show up and tell cool stories about what they do, all except him.

"Connor," Mrs. Morteseenie asked. He looked up at his pretty teacher. "Are you sure your father couldn't make it?"

Connor nodded mutely. He couldn't bring himself to tell his teacher the truth. Instead, he had made up an elaborate story about his chronically absent father was a top secret spy working for the CIA, MI6, Interpol and every other possible intelligence agency of the world. He went on so many top-secret missions and had so many powerful and dangerous enemies that he was rarely ever home. It was because of this top-secret job and those enemies that he couldn't risk sending Connor birthday or Christmas presents. Connor didn't even know his name.

"Alright, moving on to math…" the teacher said and Connor tuned her out, looking instead at his desk. The lie wasn't really comforting, not that much. The other kids would run to their fathers after school or told stories about the things they did with their dads at recess. Connor always left the classroom for an hour during the first week of June when his other classmates were making macaroni pictures for their dads. Instead, Connor went to the library and read comic books or stories about animals. His favorite book was _All Creatures Great and Small_ by James Herriot.

When class ended that day, Connor stood on the sidewalk waiting for Achilles to pick him up from school. When the car pulled up towards him, Connor half expected his father to get out of it, and scoop him up into the air, promising to never ever leave him again. Instead his mother got out. "Ista!" Connor cried, pleasantly surprised to see her. He ran to her, hugging her tightly around the waist.

"Hey my little wolf pup," Ziio greeted him, ruffling his hair. "How was school?" she asked. Connor just shrugged. "It's Friday, so we're going to get ice cream."

"Really? Oh! Are you gonna go to the reservation this weekend? I wanna tell Kanen'to:kon about my school," Connor said.

"Maybe, I'm busy with my new job," Ziio said, opening the backdoor for Connor to climb in. "What did you do at school today?" she asked once she was in the driver's seat.

"Nothing cool," Connor said as he buckled himself into his booster seat. "The dads of the other kids came and told stories about what they did."

"Oh, that's nice," Ziio said. "You didn't feel left out did you?" she asked.

 _I did_. Connor shook his head. "No, I told Mrs. Morteseenie that he's a spy and away on a top-secret mission!"

Ziio laughed. "Oh Ratonhnhaké:ton, Haytham Kenway is hardly a top-secret spy."

Connor perked up suddenly. Haytham Kenway was a name he never heard before. It wasn't on the emergency contact list he memorized and his mother never let him touch her phone so he doubted it was there and Achilles never mentioned it either, so… "Who's Haytham Kenway?" Connor watched his mother get quiet and her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Ista?" he asked, wondering what was so bad about a harmless question.

"Nobody," Ziio said a little too sharply. "Forget you ever heard that name, understand me?"

"But Ista, I—"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton !" Ziio snapped. Connor whimpered a bit. His mother could be scary when she was angry but he desperately wanted information.

"Is Haytham Kenway my dad?" Connor asked, defying his mother for the first time in forever. Ziio slammed on the breaks and threw the car into park, uncaring of the fact it was in the middle of the road. She turned around in her seat to face her son.

" _I never want you to ask that_ question again! You are _my son_! Haytham Kenway is a cruel and vile man, _never speak of him or ask any questions_ about him, again! You are to forget everything about him! _Do you understand me, Ratonhnhaké:ton_?" Ziio shouted, her words coming out in a tumble of English and Mohawk.

Connor sobbed, never having been yelled at like this by his mother before. Sure, she had gotten angry with him in the past but never like this. "Yes, Ista… I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll never ask again!" Connor cried. Ziio softened, and reached out to him and wiped away his tears.

"Shh, shh," she cooed. "All is forgiven Ratonhnhaké:ton, Now let's go get some ice cream then we'll go to the bookstore."

"O-Okay," Connor hiccupped, rubbing at his nose and eyes. His mother smiled as she put the car back into drive. Connor mutely looked out the window, the prospect of ice cream and bookstores a gloomy one.

* * *

 

 _Eagle's Point, Maine_ _—_ _Present Day_

"What did your mother tell you about me?" Haytham asked as Connor pushed back a green fern. He found the mushrooms growing in a little cluster and plucked them before placing them into the basket his father was holding.

"That you were a cruel and vile man," Connor replied.

"That's it?" Haytham asked. Connor thought he sounded her. "A cruel and vile man."

"Ista wasn't found of you when I was little," Connor said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. He continued along the game trail, eyes glued to the ground. They were out hunting mushrooms. Connor had wanted to go alone but Haytham had insisted on coming and despite his protests and his mother's reluctance, she never forgave Haytham for letting him jump off the Point the other day, Connor found himself walking through the forest with his father. At least he had Aquila; the Newfoundland never left his side. Sometimes she even slept on top of him in his bed at night. He didn't mind though. Connor stopped, a frown on his face as his father crashed loudly through the underbrush.

"Can you be quiet?" Connor asked, looking over his shoulder. "You're making too much noise."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know my excess noise would frightened away a bunch of fungus!" Haytham bit back. The fourteen-year-old rolled his eyes and walked on, grimacing every time his father crashed and stomped along the trail. If he had his b-b gun or slingshot and was alone, he'd bring home a couple of squirrels or a rabbit. "What did you think of me?" Haytham asked.

Connor gave a nonchalant shrug. "I didn't know you. I made up this story about how you were a spy on some top-secret mission and couldn't visit because of it," Connor said. "It was good for a little kid, but when I turned twelve I figured you just abandoned me and my mother before I was born," Connor looked at his father, "for another woman."

Haytham's eyes grew wide and he sputtered at the indignant of it all. "What put _that_ ridiculous notion into your head? Was it your mother?"

"No," Connor said, shaking his head, "it what happened to Johnny Cartwell at school. That's why he had a stepdad."

"I didn't abandon you are your mother! I never looked at another woman since your mother, Connor," Haytham said, "if anyone did any abandoning it was your mother!" Haytham sighed, "I loved her with all my heart."

Connor turned and looked at him, his arms crossed. "Oh, really?"

"It's the truth!" Haytham spat. "I would have been there for you and her if she had only told me she was pregnant!"

Connor snorted. "Yeah, well it's too little and too late for that. Whatever reason you have, the bottom line is that you weren't there!"

"Connor… son," Haytham began.

"I told you, don't call me son like it's supposed to mean something!" Connor spat.

Haytham sighed. "It's not like I didn't want to be! Your mother left me, and when she walked out of my life, I never heard from her again. I'm not a heartless unfeeling monster you think I am, Connor."

Connor growled in frustration. "Whatever," he spat and walked off before umping up and grabbing a thick low hanging branch. He began to climb the tree.

"Connor! Connor! Connor Kenway, you get down here right now! _Connor!_ " Haytham shouted, coming to stand at the foot of the tree. He watched his son nimbly scale up the tree and settled halfway up it in a nook of branches.

Connor glanced down, a cocky little smirk on his face as he waved at his father. "Connor!" Haytham shouted again, but the boy in question stayed put. Gleefully, Connor watched as his father huffed in frustration and walked back home.

* * *

 

Haytham spotted his father sitting on the front steps peeling potatoes, when he returned. The old man stopped his task, a frown on his face. "Where's Connor?" Edward asked.

"Half way up a bloody tree!" Haytham yelled. Edward chuckled. "It's not funny!" Haytham shouted as he sat down next to his dad.

"Got a lot of mushrooms," Edward noted.

"Connor's good at finding them," Haytham muttered as Ziio came out of the house.

"Where's Ratonhnhaké:ton?" she asked, looking around for her son and not finding him. "Haytham? Where's Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

"Half way up a bloody tree," Haytham fumed. "Maybe he's reached the bleeding top by now."

"What's he doing up a tree? Did you let him climb it?" Ziio asked, her anger rising.

"Of course I didn't _let_ him! I told him to get down but he didn't listen!"

"Did you use his name and tell him to stop?" Ziio asked as if he was obtuse.

"Of course I did! But he doesn't listen to me!"

"Did you use Ratonhnhaké:ton or Connor Kenway?"

"The latter, I can't say the former yet."

"No wonder he ignored you! He doesn't listen to _that_ name!" Ziio cried. "Now my son is up in a tree!"

"He'll be alright lass," Edward said. "Just calm down. Once Connor's simmered down he'll come home."

"Why didn't you grab him, Haytham?" Ziio asked, ignoring Edward. All her ire was focused on Haytham.

"Because he just went ahead and bloody did it! He's like a monkey! A willful headstrong monkey that doesn't listen to his father!" Haytham said and watched as Ziio stomped her feet into her shoes. "Where are you going?" he asked, sounding stupid.

Ziio glowered at him, some strains of black hair falling into her eyes. "I'm going to look for my son and get him out of the damn tree!" Ziio said, giving her shoe laces a sharp tug, before she marched off, wrestling on her jacket along the way. Haytham sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. Edward wordlessly handed Haytham a potato and a knife.

Haytham started peeling potatoes, a bit awkwardly at first, until he got the hang of peeling with a knife. "I thought you had a pub to run?" Haytham asked.

"Took the day off again. I do get a retirement check, Navy benefits _and_ social security, Haytham. I don't need to run the pub every day," Edward said. Haytham nodded and lapsed into a comfortable silence with his father.

* * *

 

He glanced up after the fourth or fifth potato, when he noticed a black SUV pull up to _the Sea Eagle_ 's empty parking lot. Haytham watched as three men, grabbed in black with dark sunglasses got out of the vehicle. Clearly city slickers, one went into the woods while the other two walked towards Haytham and Edward.

"Didja seem 'em?" Edward whispered to his son.

"Yeah, strange. Wonder what they want," Haytham said. Edward handed him his potato.

"Don't know, don't want to find out," Edward growled as he stood up. "Wait here," he said and went inside the house. He was back shortly, carrying a shotgun and a rifle. He pressed the rifle into Haytham's hands. "Don't like weird folk sniffin' around where they have no need to," Edward growled, tucking the shotgun under his arm and began to load it. He walked towards the two strange men as he did so. Haytham checked make sure the rifle was load, which it was, before walking after his father.

They came to a halt about three feet from each other. Haytham glanced at the woods nervously, wondering why the other man hadn't come back yet, before focusing on the two before him and his father.

"Whaddya want?" Edward asked. "If ya lost get off my property and go back the other way!"

"Are you sure this is the place?" one man asked the other. His partner nodded. "Alright," he said and looked at Haytham and Edward. "We're looking for Zoey and Conrí, have you seen—" he stopped when the second man's phone rang. The man on the phone had a quick conversation before he turned the device off.

"You Haytham Kenway?" the second man asked.

"Depends," Haytham said, hefting the rifle up higher. "What's this about?"

"Where's your son?" he asked.

"My son?" Haytham decided it would be prudent to play dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a son."

"We're looking for a boy named Connor Kenway, about fourteen years old. A little birdie told us he'd be up here with his old lady."

"I'm sorry, but you are sadly mistaken. I don't have a son, I'm here visiting my father. He's gone senile."

"I an't gone senile!" Edward shouted, not bothering to glance at Haytham. He leveled his shotgun at the two men. "Their Commies, sure has hell. Just like me ol' man said." Edward cocked the weapon. "Don't like Commies too much."

"Sir," the second man said, swallowing nervously. Haytham suspect that they weren't armed, or if they were it was a knife and that was for close combat. "We just want to talk to Connor Kenway."

"That's exactly what Stalin said! Look what's happenin'!" Edward said. "Da! Da! Get out here! Got some bloody Commies at th' end o' the barrel!"

Haytham put on his best-exasperated face. "Dad, Grandda has been dead for years. The Cold War is over."

"No it an't! That's just what they want ya to believe," Edward growled. "Da an't dead, neither. He's in th' back. Da, get out 'ere!"

Haytham looked at the two men and smiled at them, lowering his gun. "I'm sorry, about all this, but as you can see, he has trouble remembering things."

"I an't no trouble 'memberin' things, son!" Edward snarled. Suddenly, there was a scream and all four men froze. "It's the Commies!" Edward shouted and pulled the trigger. He missed, and the two men flipped back their coats to reveal a pistol on their hips. Haytham raised his gun.

"Just so you know, I'm a pretty good shot," Haytham warned. The two men swallowed, looking nervously at Haytham and Edward. They stayed like that for several minutes before the third man came out of the woods. He was holding a beaded bracelet, crafted in the Native American style. Haytham swallowed when he saw that, worried about Ziio and Connor.

"Well?" the second man asked the third. "Did you find them?"

"Found them, chased them through the woods, all the way to a waterfall. Tried grab them, but there was a struggle and they tumbled over the side," the third man said. He held up the bracelet for the other two to see. "Saw their jackets in the river. Nobody could survive that fall."

"What do we tell the boss?" the first man asked. Haytham lowered his gun, dreading the words that the third man would say next.

"They're dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Dun-dun-duuuuuuuuuuh!
> 
> I wanted a more action-y scene but you get Edward pretending to be senile. His father survived in WWII and Edward was born shortly after and grew up during the height of the Cold War. Commie is slang for Communist and refers to the Russians at the time. Haytham was born in the early seventies.
> 
> I was planning on finishing this chapter tonight after I got home with my mom from babysitting, but plans changed causing her to leave before I got home from school, so now I'm here and this gets posted! Yay!
> 
> Or maybe not yay. Depending on how you take this news. Muwhahahaahahaha! Yes, Haytham calls his deceased grandfather "Grandda".
> 
> Save an author; leave a review! You can leave kudos too!!


	8. OD of Lies

_Fifteen years earlier_

Ziio stared at the ultrasound image. There wasn't anything to really look at, the bright spot was her baby, according to her doctor. She couldn't really believe it. That she was pregnant. It almost seemed surreal. She was going to be a mother, and Haytham. "What would he say?" she whispered to herself, wondering how she was going to break the news to him. Ever since a few nights ago, when he asked her if she was pregnant, their relationship had gotten… strange was the only way she could put it.

Sighing, Ziio rested her head against the headrest of the seat. "You complicate everything," she mumbled, her hand resting on her still flat stomach, though an amused smile graced her lips. She glanced at her watch, it was a little after three. She wondered if Haytham would be home early today, he'd been working late recently. "He's probably avoiding me," Ziio muttered as she opened the glove box and putting the ultrasound image in. She closed it with a snap before getting out of her car and locking it. Shrugging her bag higher, she smiled at the doorman before entering the apartment complex and up to the third floor where Haytham's apartment was located.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Kenway!" the bald portly jeweler greeted him. Haytham sighed and gave a little nod to the man.

"Is it ready?" Haytham asked. He had a plan all in his head. The charity ball for the children's hospital was coming up, everyone from his firm would be there and that will be when he asked Ziio to marry him. If he could, he would shout it from the rooftops, but that was impractical and she'd probably yell at him to get down and stop acting a fool.

"Yes, yes it is," the jeweler said. "Let me just go get it." He shuffled into the back of the shop, leaving Haytham to look at all the sparkling jewelry. He liked looking at jewelry, imaging Ziio wearing some of the more simplistic pieces. He personally thought a string of pearls would look stunning against her brown skin, as would white gold or silver.

He walked along the display, humming to himself as he looked at the glittering pieces. His eyes fell on a white gold bracelet with diamonds, sapphires and amethysts. Haytham stared at it, easily imagining Ziio wearing something like that, especially at the ball. _Maybe I should get it for her?_ He thought, tapping the glass display. "Ah," the voice of the jeweler drew his attention away from the bracelet. "Here we are Mr. Kenway," the jeweler said. "I dare say the engraving was the tricky part. What country did you say your girlfriend was from? She has the most unusual name."

"I didn't," Haytham said crisply and held out his hand. The jeweler dropped the engagement ring into Haytham's awaiting palm. Crafted out of silvery white gold with elegant diamond in the middle, engraved on the inside of the band were his name, Ziio's full name and _love always and forever_ in Mohawk. Haytham chuckled as he recalled how he got her to spell the phrase out for him without tipping her off on why he wanted it.

"Does it meet your expectations?" the jeweler asked, wringing his hands anxiously.

"It does," Haytham agreed as he handed it back to the man. "She'll be surprised and pleased."

"Of course she will," the jeweler said, "she's a lucky woman, whoever she is; having you as a husband, a rising star lawyer, and the ability to rub elbows with the elite of Boston. What woman wouldn't want that?"

Haytham chuckled, "Indeed." He agreed, though he wondered if Ziio really wanted such a high profile life. She always had been simplistic. Comfortable jeans and shirts, home cooked meals oppose to fancy restaurants, buying a new car instead of a used one. Things like that. It wasn't the first time he wondered if he was pulling her towards a life she didn't want.

His childhood wasn't glamorous while he lived in Eagle's Point, but when he came to Boston Birch made sure he got the best of everything. Haytham grew use to the life of an elite. He couldn't honestly imagine life without being able to buy a something outright the moment you wanted it. "How much for the bracelet?" he asked, pointing to the bracelet he was looking at earlier.

"Oh, that pretty little thing," the jeweler said as he put the engagement ring into a box. "That's $599, but since I like you, I'll give you a discount. $299 sound reasonable?" the man said.

"More than reasonable," Haytham said. "I'll take it as well," he told the jeweler. The man laughed.

"Delightful!" he said and went to retrieve the bracelet as well. Haytham sighed, wondering if Ziio would like the bracelet and the ring or even the idea of marrying him. He shook his head, dismissing his worries for nerves and nothing else.

* * *

Ziio tucked some hair behind her ear as she placed the bowl of pasta on the table. Haytham still wasn't home and she was beginning to wonder if making a nice dinner only to end up eating it and watching _The Big Bang Theory_ by herself until he got home was even worth it. She chewed her lip, wondering if she should get out the candlesticks, but decided against it. The odds weren't in her favor that her boyfriend wouldn't be home for dinner. "Bastard," she muttered.

She finished setting the table then got a glass of water and took one of her pre-natal vitamins the doctor prescribed her. She still couldn't believe she was pregnant and she was still trying to figure out how to tell Haytham. She heard keys jingle at the door. She wrapped her hand around the frying pan in the drain board.

"Ziio? Ziio, I'm home," Haytham said as he opened the door to the apartment. Ziio let go of the frying pan. She chuckled, remembering the one time he snuck up on her while she was doing the dishes and she clobbered him with the soaping frying pan in her hand. "Oh, you made dinner," he said.

"Yes." She smiled as she walked up to him. She stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips. "How was your day?"

"Utterly exhausting! You do not realize how whiny rich people are when they are on the wrong side of the law. It's worse when they are underage and it's _their_ parents you have deal with! Especially if the crime they committed is a sex crime." Haytham set his briefcase on the couch and loosened his tie. "Those are just a nightmare. You have to keep everything out of the papers as best you can otherwise you are the first person they call because they now want to sue the reporters for just doing their job!"

"Then why do you do it?" Ziio asked. "Wine?"

"No thank you," Haytham waved the offered wine away. Ziio depressed the tab on the electric kettle instead and went rummaging into the cupboards for some tea. "English Breakfast if we're out of Earl Grey."

"I know," Ziio said and grabbed the box of tea bags.

"I do it because I believe they deserve a fair trial," Haytham said sitting down. "All are equal before the law, even if they are a butcher or a sick bastard. They deserve a fair trial and a chance to be found guilty by a jury of their peers."

"Then why do you only work for rich people?" Ziio asked as she set the mug by the kettle. "It doesn't seem fair."

"I don't only work for rich people," Haytham scoffed. "Rich people come crawling to me because I'm a good lawyer and they are willing to pay for my services." Ziio glared at him but he pressed on, "But we never turn away a client."

"Right, maybe your firm doesn't, but all your clients you've ever told me about are rich snobby people. So does Hickey get all the common muck?"

"It's not like that Ziio," Haytham said, sitting down at the table and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm generalizing them, I can't actually tell you about them because it would be a breach of ethics."

"But you've represented murderers. Known murderers and gotten them off yes?" Ziio asked as the kettle began to whistle.

"Of course," Haytham said. "The water's done."

"I know that but doesn't that bother you?" Ziio asked as she poured the water into his mug. She spooned sugar into it and then added a splash of milk before walking over to the table where he was sitting. He took the tea for her. "Those people killed others!"

"Of course it bothers me," Haytham said softly.

"Then why defend them?"

"Because they deserve a fair trial and they deserve the best my skills have to offer," Haytham said.

"But—"

"You are trying to make this into a morality argument, dear," Haytham said and began to dish out the pasta, "it's not one. It's simply a job. A public service I preform for others that can't defend themselves."

"Sometimes I think you love your job more than me," Ziio grumbled, she wasn't looking at him when she said it but when she glanced at him she was shocked to see his crestfallen look. She blinked, surprised that her words stung him.

"Of course I love you Ziio," Haytham said. "Is something the matter? You've been moody of late."

"No," Ziio shook her head. "Probably getting close to that time of the month," she accepted the plate of pasta, "thank you." They began to eat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts for a moment. They looked up at each other and said: "I have something to telling."

Ziio giggled when they said it at the same time. "You go first, what do you have to tell me?"

Haytham cleared his throat. "Well, day after tomorrow is the annual charity ball for one of the children's hospitals."

"Oh, sounds fancy," Ziio teased. Haytham smiled slightly.

"It is, so I was wondering… hoping really, if you'd do me the honor of being my date for the evening."

"Your date?" Ziio arched her brow. "I don't know Haytham. I don't know any of your co-workers."

"Madaeleine will be there or her husband Philippe will at the very least," Haytham said. "You've met them, remember?"

"They have that cute little girl, Aveline, correct?"

"Yes," Haytham said and took a sip of his tea. "Madaeleine's stepdaughter. I'm sure Madaeleine has a dress you can borrow."

"No, no… I have a dress," Ziio said.

"You do?" Haytham asked, flummoxed.

Ziio frowned. "Of course I have a dress. What do you take me for, a country bumpkin? Every woman needs at least one nice dress for high-tone and fancy to-do parties and affairs."

"So you'll go then?" Haytham asked.

"Yes, I'll go," Ziio laughed. "Considering that if I don't someone may steal you from me and I can't have that." _Especially now that I'm carrying your child._

"What did you want to tell me?" Haytham asked. He took a bite of pasta. He seemed to enjoy it. "Ziio?"

"Nothing," Ziio said, feeling her cheeks flush.

"How was your doctor's appointment today?" Haytham asked.

"Fine, there was nothing wrong, healthy as a horse," Ziio said, eyes focused on her food. She couldn't meet Haytham's eyes. If she looked at him, she'll cave and tell him. She wondered why she was so reluctant to tell him.

"Are you sure or are you not telling me something?" Haytham asked.

"Don't go using your lawyer tricks on me, Haytham Kenway!" Ziio hissed. "I say I'm fine and that's it! You gotta accept that!"

"Okay, okay," Haytham replied, making a face. "I was just wondering. You just seem like you're hiding something from me, that's all."

"You hide things from me!" Ziio snapped.

"I'm a lawyer; I can't exactly go home and tell my girlfriend all about the cases I'm working on." Haytham sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Please, let's not fight. We've been fighting too much in the past few months and I just can't stand it."

Ziio sighed, she stood up and walked over to Haytham. "I'm sorry," she whispered and hugged him. "Let's not fight. We won't talk about it or your job."

"Yes, indeed." Haytham kissed her.

"I feel safest with you Haytham, I don't know why, but when you hold me, all my cares wash away."

"I'm glad," Haytham whispered, stroking her hair. "I promise Ziio, I'll protect you, for as long as I live, I'll protect you and make sure no harm befalls you."

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine_ _—_ _Present day_

Dead.

The word vibrated around in Haytham's skull like thunder. He stared as the three men got into their black SUV and drove off to deliver the news to their boss, whomever the person was. There was a clatter at his feet, he would later realize that he dropped the rifle he was holding.

Dead.

He felt numb. He heard his father call out his name and the ground was suddenly coming up to his face quickly before curtailing rapidly. "I gotcha son," Edward said. Haytham felt his father drag him into the house and set him into a chair. Edward told him later that he just stared at the wall only coming back to something akin to reality when a hot mug of tea was placed into his hands.

Dead.

Connor and Ziio were dead. It couldn't be true. "Drink your tea son, before it gets cold," Edward said and that seem to break the hold on Haytham a tiny bit. He wouldn't cry, he refused to cry. He hadn't cry since the night he was dragged from his home and Birch shot his father.

"I thought they'd be safe here," Haytham whispered. "I knew I should have only told Shay my plans."

"I'm sorry, Haytham," Edward said and squeezed his son's shoulder. "I liked them. It was nice having them around."

"Dad," Haytham began but squeezed his eyes shut. There had to be something wrong here. Just because you saw jackets in the river didn't mean their owners were dead, plus Ziio and Connor were both strong swimmers and he had seen his son jump from a cliff into a lake. Granted a river was a different story, but he still couldn't fathom Connor not managing to survive, even if it was just to spite the villain that pushed him off the edge in the first place.

Haytham stood up and drained the rest of his tea. "Where ya goin'?" Edward asked, watching his son marched to the door.

"I'm going to find my ex-girlfriend and son," Haytham said and exited the house. He walked briskly into the forest, following the same game trail he and Connor took earlier that day. The forest was silent, the trees standing looming sentinels all around him. There was a foreboding miasma, about the forest. There were stories that the forest almost had a mind of its own and protected those it considered its own. According to the local folklore of Eagle's Point, the stories of the forest go back to before European explores came here.

There was only one waterfall nearby that Haytham knew of, and it was called Leap of Faith. The river fed into the lake beneath the Point. He stopped suddenly when he heard a metallic clink. He wished he'd brought a gun or a knife with him, but he'd have to use his fists instead. There was a happy woof and his father's dog stood before him, wagging her tail. She barked again and looked over her shoulder. That's when he heard it, a faint voice calling for help. "Connor! Ziio!" Haytham called.

Aquila barked again and danced in place. "Lead the way girl," Haytham said and the dog took off into the forest. Haytham followed, hoping against hope that at least one of them was alive.

* * *

_Fifteen years earlier_

Ziio stared at her reflection in the mirror. She rarely dressed up for anything, but she had the equipment to do it and make a statement. She had piled her hair in a bund, secured by two elegant combs with rhinestones set into flower patterns; she curled a few strains to frame her face. The make-up she applied was some eyeshadow, massacre, some eyeliner and blush and a lip-gloss that brought out the natural red of her lips, simple yet elegant. The earrings she wore were moonstones with a matching necklace. She had no bracelet.

The dress Ziio wore was white, with electrum accents around the bodice and hem of the dress and the slit that ran up one side, ending in the middle of her thigh. In all she looked stunning, like a princess from a faraway land. The only challenge now was getting into her heels. She hated wearing heels, but she will suffer them for Haytham. "For Haytham," she whispered before slipping the shoes on and grimacing as they pinched her feet. After tonight, she'll tell him about the baby. She already made her choice, she was going to keep this child, whether he liked it or not. A knock sounded on her door.

"Ziio? Ziio, you ready to go, we don't want to be late," Haytham said. Ziio stood up, wobbled a little until she found her balance and walked towards the door. She took a deep breath and sighed. She opened the door.

"Let's go," she said and walked passed him. She stopped when she realized he wasn't following her. "Are you coming? You said you didn't want to be late."

"You look amazing," Haytham said. "Gorgeous. Wait here, I have something for you," he said and vanished into their bedroom. Ziio frowned, wondering what it was. He returned a minute later with a slender rectangle velvet box. "I saw this and I thought of you," he said handing it to her.

"What is it?" she asked, taking it.

"Open it," Haytham urged her. Frowning, Ziio opened the box and gasped upon seeing the bracelet. She never got jewelry from a man before. She always bought her own when she could afford it.

"Haytham," she looked at him as she took out the bracelet. The diamonds, sapphires and amethysts sparkled in the light. "It's beautiful, where did you get this. How much was it?" she asked.

"Never mind about the cost," he said as he took the bracelet and put it around her wrist. "It suits you perfectly."

"Thank you," Ziio whispered. Haytham kissed the back of her hand and Ziio couldn't help but feel like a princess with her knight.

"Shall we go?" he asked. Ziio giggled. "Don't make me use my dismal French to woo you to the car. We have a full night of elegancy and doldrums ahead of us."

"Yes, let's go." Ziio said, accepting Haytham's offered arm and left the apartment with him.

* * *

He hated going to these things. He had no problem donating money but he hated going and interacting with people, especially when he detested the majority of them. It also didn't help that a lot of people were openly gawking at Ziio, who was shyly clinging to his arm. "There are a lot of people here," Ziio whispered.

"I know, these things are always terribly crowded."

"Haytham!" a voice called. Haytham turned and gave a little smile. At least not all the company was terribly and he was thankful that the first person he were to run into Ziio at least knew.

"Ah, Philippe," Haytham said, "and the ever lovely Madaeleine."

"Is Aveline here as well?" Ziio asked.

"No, no, her uncle Agapé was in town and he is watching her," Philippe said.

"You are too charming," Madaeleine said. "You, Ziio, on the other than are like a stunning star."

"Yes, Haytham, you surely have caught yourself a beautiful woman." Philippe agreed. Haytham couldn't help put puff out his chest a little in pride while Ziio blushed, glancing at her feet.

"Of course," Haytham agreed. "I expect I'll have to keep Hickey away from her otherwise he may do something improper."

"Keep me away from whom?" an obnoxious voice asked.

"Speak of the devil," Haytham grumbled. "Ziio, I'd like to introduce one of my colleagues, Thomas Hickey"

"Well hello," Hickey said, leering at Ziio. "You're rather easy on the eyes."

"And I'm sure you're outfit was found in a dumpster," Ziio shot back, her voice icy and her eyes narrowed. Haytham bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, while Philippe and Madaeleine politely moved on. Hickey placed a hand to his heart.

"You wound me fair maiden," he cried.

"Oh stop being melodramatic," Haytham huffed.

"He's not melodramatic yet, Haytham. He isn't nearly drunk enough," another man said, an imposing scar over his eye. He smiled politely at Ziio. "Shay Cormac, I work with Haytham."

Ziio took his hand and shook it. "Ziio," said.

"Diio?"

" _Z_ iio," she repeated.

"Interesting, never heard a name like that before," Shay said.

"And never will again, c'mon, let's mingle before Charles is drawn over here," Haytham said.

"Charles Lee is here?" Ziio asked. "Why is he here?"

"Because he donated so he gets to attend. Don't worry, I will try my best to keep you to separated. The last thing I need tonight is the start of a blood feud between you and him."

"When is he leaving, Haytham?" Ziio asked.

"December I think, c'mon there's a table open, we can sit there. The dinner and speeches are almost upon us."

"I'm shaking with excitement," Ziio snorted.

"You and me both," Haytham said and lead her to the table he had spotted earlier. Haytham was glad that Shay, Thomas, Philippe and Madaeleine also ended up at this table. He spoke quickly with Pitcairn, Johnson and Church when they came by and would send Shay off on interception missions whenever he spotted Charles. Dinner was soon serve and while everyone was eating the speeches began.

Philippe made the first speech, which Haytham largely ignored though he clapped and nodded at all the proper places. Ziio mimicked him though would muttered something rude in Mohawk. Haytham wished he knew the language well enough to make snide remarks about everyone in the room with her and they all be none the wiser, alas he could barely speak French, let alone Mohawk.

Johnson was next in the speech department and Haytham felt that he could get through one more speech before derailing everything and making his announcement. He double-checked to make sure he had the engagement ring. Johnson said his goodbyes and stepped down from the podium, and that was whenever everything went to hell.

The next speaker was Edward Braddock, and by the way, Ziio stiffened Haytham guessed that she had history with the man and that it wasn't really good. "Ziio?" he asked tentatively as Braddock began to give his speech.

"Why didn't you tell me _Braddock_ was going to be here!" Ziio hissed sharply at him.

"I don't know, he probably donated or was invited," Haytham explained. "I'll make sure he stays away from you. Why do you hate him so much?"

"He's the reason my brother is dead. That man is a murderer."

"Really?"

"Yes, he got off scotch free on my brother's murder. All because he was—"

"—Haytham Kenway! The superstar young attorney! If it weren't for his handling of my case, I would probably have been locked up. Birch decided to let him handle the last witness and closing arguments of the case to give him some hands on experience and he was simply stunning. He had to jury moved to tears! So, when Birch called at told me his plan, I gave it my seal of approval!" Braddock said, he began to clap everyone but Haytham and Ziio joined in.

"What is he talking about?" Ziio hissed as Braddock's speech started up again.

"He was tried for murder a shortly after I got out of law school. I was new to the firm and Birch was Braddock's representative. I was on Birch's legal team along with Charles. Birch was impressed with how I handled the research and other matters of the case, with Braddock's approval I was allowed to do the last witness and closing arguments." Haytham gave a little shrug. "The jury found him not guilty."

"That case was my brother's murder trial!" Ziio shouted, getting to her feet. "That man murdered my brother in cold blood! For no other reason that the fact my brother was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something he shouldn't have!"

"Ziio, I didn't know," Haytham said standing up.

"—Partner of Temple Law Firm!" Braddock said, but Haytham didn't hear it, his attention was on Ziio.

"Sure, you didn't. I told you my brother was murdered and I told you that his killer's high-priced lawyers got him off." Ziio looked at him, one of utter betrayal. "How could you betray me?"

"Betray you? I never betrayed you! I barely did anything in tha case! The majority of the work was done by Birch! I just took notes and did research for him! He thought that if I were to speak to the last witness, it would rattle the fellow enough that it would skew his story enough for there to be a hung jury or something!"

"My brother is dead because of this man!" Ziio pointed at Braddock. "And you are the reason that man isn't behind bars and my brother never got justice!"

"Ziio." Haytham reached for her, trying to calm her down, but he only realized too late that he was beyond that.

"No, no! I… I hate you," she breathed, choking up. "All this time… I was falling in love with you, you were the reason why my family never got closure for my brother's death. You say it is just a job, that you keep morals out of the courtroom, then tell me, how do you sleep at night, know that you got Braddock off for the murder of my brother?"

"Just fine actually," Haytham said, though as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Ziio, I'm not saying—"

"No," Ziio whispered, backing away as she shook her head. "No, I'm… done. We're through. It's over Haytham," she said.

"Ziio, don't be like this. Listen, let's go the lobby and discuss this in a calm and mature manner."

"No, I'm done. I'm done with you, with this life… everything! I'm done!"

"Wait, Ziio!" he grabbed her wrist.

"Just leave me alone!" she screamed, twisting her wrist free. Tears leaked down her eyes, ruining her make up. She stared at him for several long moments before leaving the ballroom.

"Ziio…" Haytham whispered. He slowly sat down, ignoring stares or Braddock trying to get him to come to the podium to make a speech. He stayed for Birch's speech before leaving shortly after it had ended. He got to his apartment and instantly felt the lack of Ziio's presence in the place. She had taken all the things she could carry and told him to do as he pleased with the rest of the things she couldn't take with her.

It was all there on a little note with her key and the bracelet he had given her. Haytham looked at the liquor cabinet. He got black out drunk that night.

* * *

That was the nice thing about cheap hotels. They didn't question you too much. Ziio thought as she paid the man at the counter and accepted her key. She went to her room, carrying her suitcase behind her. Once alone in the room she flopped backwards onto the bed. Sighing she tried to put the events out of her mind, to calm down and rationalize through this. Maybe she could go back to Haytham, tell him about the baby and they can work out their problems.

She frowned, realizing that if she went back her baby would be near men like Braddock and Lee. Ziio wouldn't stand for such horrid influence to be near her son or daughter. No, she couldn't go back and she knew Haytham would never leave, despite all his talk of being there for her. "So it really is the end," she whispered, rolling to her side and hugging the pillow. "He's gone."

Ziio wept, she didn't know how long and she mostly blamed pregnancy hormones, but by the time she stopped it was nearly morning. She rested her hand on her stomach, suddenly protective of the little life inside of her. The little life she and Haytham created together, out of love for each other. No. She squeezed her eyes shot, she mustn't think about him or his involvement. No, from now on, as for as she was concern Haytham had no part to play with this child. This baby was hers, strictly hers. "I'll protect you little one, I'll protect you, for as long as I live, I'll protect you and make sure no harm befalls you."

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine_ _—_ _Present day_

He was breathing, that was a good sign. Ziio hoped it was, as she leaned against the tree, her head craned to study the cliff. Connor had fought their attack with all the fury of the wild, but the man was an experience thug and easily bested her fourteen-year-old son. She had went to him, screaming at the man in a mixture of English and Mohawk before the ground gave way.

The attack tried to grab hold of her to prevent her from falling, but was unable to and they fell. They were saved by a tree, though Connor had hit his head during the fall and had yet to wake up. Ziio pressed herself and her son up against the clifface when the man looked over the ledge to see where they had gone. He left after she threw their coats into the river below.

"Help! Somebody help!" she screamed again, her voice raw and sore. The waterfall behind her drowned out most of her words, but early on Aquila had heard her and she sent the dog to fetch help. She doubted the animal would be any help, but she could hope someone would come looking for them. She just wanted her son to wake up. "Wake up Ratonhnhaké:ton, please," Ziio whispered and pressed her forehead to her child's.

* * *

Haytham followed Aquila to the ledge. He saw the missing section of earth, dropping to his hands and knees he leaned over it. Dark was gathering quickly and he needed to act fast if he was going to do anything in time to save the people he cared about. He pushed some hair out of his eyes. "Hello? Ziio! Connor!" he shouted into the misty abyss.

"Haytham? Haytham is that you?" a woman's voice cried.

_Ziio… she's alive!_ Haytham breathed a sigh of relief. "Ziio, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said. "But Ratonhnhaké:ton isn't! He's not waking up!"

Haytham looked around until he spotted them on a tree that seemed to curve out and up, ideal for catching them. He couldn't help but think of the saying the old timers had told him as a boy: The forest protects its own. Ziio looked no worse for wear, some bumps and bruises, maybe a few broken bones. It was his son that concerned him. Connor was breathing, but blood oozed down from a cut on his head and there was a cut on his cheekbone that was also oozing blood. Haytham licked his lips. "Connor… Connor can you hear me!" he shouted.

He waited, praying, wishing, hoping… for something to happen, for his son to open his eyes and say his name. Haytham bowed his head when his boy didn't stir. He was about to give up when Ziio's frantic shouting of his name drew his attention back down again.

Connor had opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> This chapter got outta hand. *dies in a corner* Yet I'm happy because it turned out wonderfully. I was struggling to figure out how do this chapter, should I stick with the present and what happened in the forest or do I make it completely in the past.
> 
> Well, I did a little bit of both, though I stuck with Haytham in the present until the end.
> 
> New chapter either Sunday or Monday. I have homework and I want to play ACIII and work on ACIII: Liberations as well. Plus, I need to think about where to go from here. And I'm really tired right now and I can't think. For those that haven't played ACIII: Liberations, Philippe de Grandpre is Aveline's dad and Madaleine de L'Isle is her stepmother and Agape is her assassin mentor.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	9. All Roads Lead to Boston

He hated hospitals. The only times he ever went to hospitals was because someone was dying. First was when he was eight, and his grandfather was dying. The second was when his mother died. Haytham had a very negative relationship with hospitals. It wasn't getting better either, especially not with the way Ziio was looking at him. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. They were in Connor's hospital room.

After finding them, he'd ran back to get help and the local sheriff. It took two hours for them to pull Ziio and Connor up and then they were rushed to the hospital in Moose Park. Ziio had her cuts looked at while Connor was admitted to make sure the head injury he sustained wasn't anything serious and to have the cut on his cheek stitched up. Now he was sleeping, thanks to a sedative the doctors gave him and he would stay the night for monitoring.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Ziio asked, a distraught and worried look on her face. "My baby is going to be alright?"

"He's going to be fine," Haytham said, he was worried too but he had to put on a brave face for Ziio. She looked so fragile right now, as if the slightest gust of wind would break her. "He's a strong kid. The doctors say he has a thick skull and there is no damage."

"Yes, but they're keeping him over night!" Ziio pointed out, chewing her lip. "What if something worse happens? Like his brain starts to bleed or…"

"Nothing is going to happen," Haytham said. He didn't want to focus on all the what-ifs, that'll just work him into a fit of anxiety and he didn't need that. Ziio was already doing it for the both of them. One of them had to keep their head in this situation. "He's fourteen, he's young and will bounce right back."

"He was so brave." Ziio walked over to their son and placed her hand on his. "He fought the guy. It was an uneven fight, but he fought regardless."

"You're his mother, of course he's going to protect you," Haytham said. Ziio sighed and saw down in the chair by Connor's bedside, never letting go of her son's hand. Haytham took a seat opposite the bed, staring at his sleeping son and Ziio. They fell into a pensive silence, the clock tick-tocking the time away. Finally Haytham said, "I thought I lost you and Connor."

"What?" Ziio looked at him.

"They sent three guys. My father and I dealt with the first two. He pretended to be senile, worked rather well," Haytham said. "When the third man came back, he told his companions you and Connor were dead. I thought I lost you and Connor."

"Oh."

"I still have the bracelet…"

"Why didn't you marry? I figured you'd be married by now," Ziio said. Haytham made a face before looking at his hands, trying to think about what to say.

"Because nobody could come close to you," he said. "I've tried, Shay and Hickey threw enough women at me, but none were you."

"So you got hung up on me," Ziio commented. Haytham frowned.

"No, I had found love and I… let it slip away," Haytham said. Ziio looked away at that. She threaded her fingers through her son's hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said anything." He stood up, "I'm going to the cafeteria. Do you want… anything?"

Ziio shook his head and watched him leave. "Haytham?" he stopped at the sound of his name. "Thank you."

He turned and gave her a little smile. "Your welcome, Ziio."

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that his head hurt like hell. The second thing he was aware was that he was in a bed. Connor groaned slowly opening his eyes, being met by the muted colors of the hospital room. An IV was in his hand, and a monitor clip was on his finger, he could hear the _beep… beep… beep_ of the heart monitor to his left. He slowly moved his head, aware that it throbbed painfully. He looked at his mother, clutching his hand. She had fallen asleep against his bed.

"You're awake," Haytham said. Connor looked up to see his father standing at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back. He must've been pacing. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts like hell," Connor said. "What happened?"

"You and your mother fell over the ledge. Luckily a tree was growing out of the clifface and caught you two," Haytham said.

"What about that guy?" Connor asked. "I tried to fight him off but… I wasn't strong enough." He looked at his hands, ashamed that he couldn't have done anything more.

"He left with his fellows," Haytham said. "The doctor will be here shortly to make sure you're well enough to go home."

Connor nodded, though he quickly stopped since it hurt his head. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the blankets around him. He shifted his hand and squeezed his mother's fingers.

"She was worried about you," Haytham said. "And so was I."

Connor looked up at his father at that. "What are you going to do now?" he asked. "Those men that attacked us need to be punished."

"And they will be," Haytham agreed. "Once you are back home and I'm sure you are on the mend, I'm going to return to Boston and try to find out who attack you and your mother."

"I want to come too," Connor said.

"Absolutely not!" Haytham snapped, eyes turning flinty. "You are to stay up in Eagle's Point with your mother and grandfather! It's much too dangerous for you to come with me to Boston. They tried to kill you!"

"Exactly," Connor pointed out. "I must tell the authorities."

"No, let me take care of this. It's my responsibility as your father—"

"Don't go talking to _me_ about paternal responsibility, considering you've been neglecting that responsibility for fourteen years!"

"Not by choice, Connor," Haytham growled. "I would have embraced it if only I had know! How many times do I have to tell you this before it sinks in?"

"I have a pretty thick skull, so you better keep at it, Haytham."

"You are not going to Boston with me, do I make myself clear?" Haytham asked, gripping the bar at the foot of Connor's bed.

 _We'll see about that_. "Fine, I'll stay put," Connor huffed, looking away.

"Good," Haytham said, "glad we got that settled. I'm going to find that bloody doctor." Haytham walked out of the room, leaving Connor with his mother.

"Ista," Connor said, gently shaking her shoulder. Ziio shifted and sighed, before looking up.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" she threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "Thank god you're okay," she whispered. "How's your head?"

"It hurts, Haytham went to find the doctor," Connor said.

"Good, good," Ziio said, cupping his cheek. "I'm glad you're okay."

"What are we going to now?" Connor asked.

"We're going to stay put for the time being before making any rash decisions," Ziio said, glancing around when she heard footsteps.

"See, I told you he was awake, now check my son, so we can all go home," Haytham said, bossing the doctor into the room. Connor looked at the man and smiled. The doctor instructed him to follow his finger with his eyes, and flashed a light into his eyes to gage his pupil's reaction time. Connor only winced when the man pressed on the left side of his head.

"We're going to take an X-ray and do an MRI just to make sure there is nothing we over looked, if we find nothing he can go home," the doctor said.

"Well, hop to it man!" Haytham snapped. The doctor swallowed before leaving the room. Connor watched as his father pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "This is why I hate hospitals."

* * *

Connor hated waiting. The wait for the X-ray and then the MRI and then having to way for the doctors to look at the images and discuss, before determining that his brain was bleeding, there were no fractures of his skull, no blood clots in his head, and no brain damage. They ran one more test on him before pronouncing him well enough to return home. Once that announcement was made, Haytham ushered them all out of the hospital and into the car before driving back to Eagle's Point.

Things were quiet for several days. Nobody discussed the strange men and Connor took to wandering around the town with Aquila in toe, and always returning before dark.

Connor kicked his shoes off as he entered the house. "Ista! Haytham! Grandpa Edward! I'm home," Connor called as he opened the door.

"About bloody time!" Haytham said as Ziio set the fillet of salmon on the table.

"Connor, be a good lad an' come here an' sit down," Edward said. "It may encourage your father to do the same."

"I'm sitting down Dad! See!" Haytham sat down as Connor took his seat between his grandfather and father. "I thought you were going to open the pub tonight?"

"Tomorrow, which is Friday. I always am open on Fridays," Edward said. "You enjoying Eagle's Point."

"Yeah, it's small, but I like it. Especially when we went on your boat," Connor grinned. "I felt like a pirate."

Edward laughed. "My boy, my da told me that back in the eighteenth century the Kenways were pirates. At least a few of our ancestors were."

"Cool!" Connor looked at his hands. "Ista, I have pirate blood in my veins."

"Pirates were no good criminals, Connor. They stole from honest men," Haytham said as he served the food that was on the table. "Ziio, what are we going to do about his schooling?"

"I'll homeschool him," Ziio said. "At least for now."

"Really? I have to still do school?" Connor whined.

"Of course!" his parents said. Connor pouted as he held his head with his hand, elbow on the table.

"Elbow off the table, son. Your head isn't that heavy that your neck can't support it," Haytham said. Connor rolled his eyes and dropped his head onto the table. "Connor!" Haytham shouted, and glanced at Ziio.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio said in a warning tone.

"Arrrgh." Connor sat up straight. "Why couldn't we go out to sea again, Grandpa?" Connor asked looking at his grandfather.

"Bad weather on the horizon, don't want to be caught out in it if I don't have to be," Edward said. "Don't worry, we'll go again. Winter really isn't the best time."

"Hmm." Connor broke off a piece of fish with his fork and dipped it into the mayonnaise on his plate. He watched as his family ate, making small talk. He grabbed a roll and tore off a hunk. He ate it and rested one hand in his lap. He smirked when he felt a cold wet nose press against his knuckle. He opened his hand and Aquila took her treat gently from her hand.

"I told you not to feed the dog at the table, Connor," Haytham said. Connor glared and tore off another piece of bread and gave it to the all too willing dog. "I won't tell you again, Connor. Don't feed the dog at the table!"

"Or what?" Connor challenged as he tore the roll apart again. He shoved some into his mouth. Haytham sighed in frustration.

"Ziio!" he looked at her.

"Hm?" she arched a brow.

"Do something!" Haytham waved his hand at Connor.

"What do you want me to do?" Ziio asked.

"Tell him not to feed the dog at the table," Haytham said.

"Her name is Aquila," Connor said.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton listen to Haytham," Ziio said.

"Fiiine," Connor sighed and patted Aquila on the head. "Go lay down girl," he said. Aquila nudged his hand once looking for one last treat, finding none she hung her head and walked over to her doggie bed, where she lied down and stared mournfully at the family having dinner without her.

"I feel that in light of recent events," Haytham began, "that I should return to Boston and see what I can't find out."

"What?" Edward and Ziio both looked at him. Connor took the chance to toss a bit of breath to the dog on the pillow. Aquila happily looked it up from the floor but didn't come over.

"Why would you do something like that?" Ziio asked.

"Whomever sent those thugs thinks you and Connor are dead. They have no reason to come looking for you if I leave. Once in Boston I can ask around and figure out if Braddock wasn't behind those thugs. Also, I can find out why Lee is back."

"I think you should stay here," Edward said. Ziio nodded in agreement.

"I've already made up my mind. I'm leaving a six tomorrow for Boston," Haytham said.

"I'm coming too," Connor said.

Ziio slammed her hand on the table. "Absolutely not! You are not going anywhere Ratonhnhaké:ton, especially not to Boston!"

Connor looked at his mother then his father and grandfather. "I agree with your mother, Connor. You are safer here in Eagle's point than in Boston."

"Actually, the lad may be safer in Boston," Edward said.

"What?" Ziio and Haytham looked at the old man.

"You can't be serious? They tried to kill my son! He's not going to Boston! Haytham tell him he's not going to Boston!"

"Connor, you are not going to Boston," Haytham said.

"I want to help!" Connor said.

"No, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You can help by staying safe and that means staying here," Ziio said.

"Why do you think I'll be safer in Boston, Grandpa?" Connor asked, looking at his grandfather.

"They think ya dead. They won't look for you in Boston. If they get wind that ya alive, they'll come right back here, before realizing they might wanna check Boston," Edward said.

"No," Haytham said. "It's too risky. Connor is going to stay here. He and Ziio and hide in the forest if they come again. Scale a tree or something." Haytham looked at his son, ignoring Ziio's snort about the tree climbing. "You are to stay here, understand me Connor?"

"Alright," Connor said. "I'll stay."

"R-Really?" Haytham asked. "You aren't going to argue?"

"No," Connor said with a smile. "I'll stay. I don't want Ista to worry."

"Well," Haytham smiled, "I'm glad we've come to an understanding." Haytham said and went back to his dinner. Connor went back to his as well, sensing that the conversation was over. After dinner, he helped his mother with the dishes before taking a shower and heading up to bed. He paused his video game when Haytham appeared in his room around ten at night.

"I want to thank you for not picking a fight," Haytham said.

"Okay," Connor said, flicking the analog stick idly.

"I know we haven't exactly… gotten along but, I appreciate your cooperation in this," Haytham said.

"Hn." Connor looked out his window.

"Well, that's… that's all I wanted to say. Good night, I won't see you in the morning, so be good." Haytham patted Connor's foot before leaving the attic room. Connor waited a bit before whistling for Aquila to come up and once the door was inside the room, he pulled the door up and flicked on his flashlight.

"Alright girl, I want you to be good while I'm gone," he said as he set the flashlight upright on the nightstand. He pulled out his duffle bag and began to pack. "Help Ista and Grandpa Edward, understand?"

Aquila crawled towards Connor, licking the air. She reached him and covered his face in sloppy doggie kisses. "Hehehe. Good girl," he said and patted her head before gathering his clothes and shoving them into the bag. He left some items behind. Once he was done, he crawled back into bed and went to sleep, trusting Aquila to wake him up in the middle of the night.

She woke him up around two in the morning, wanting to go out. He yawned and dressed. Grabbing his blanket, duffle bag, sleeping bag and flashlight; he went down the stairs and let Aquila out before scribbling a quick not to his mother. He went back up to his room and set it on his nightstand, knowing she'll find it when she came to wake him up for sleeping in so late. He felt guilty, as he slipped his phone into his pocket, for leaving his mother like this, but he had to protect his mother. He heard the stories the tribal elders told of warriors going on journeys and he'd read enough fantasy books where young heroes leave their mothers to save the world.

He sniffed, rubbing away the tears. It was just like that. He was going on an adventure to save the world and his mother in the process. If that meant defying her in order to do so then so be it. Aquila barked, wanting back in. He chewed his lip once, before leaving the little attic bedroom. He closed the trap door and headed down stairs, let the dog in and slipped out of the house at the same time.

He reached his father's car, glad that it was unlocked and tossed his stuff into the back floor of the car. He got in on top of it and closed the back door. He found it difficult to get his sleeping bag out but once it was unrolled Connor wiggled into it and wrapped himself up in the blanket and went to sleep, positive that nobody would look for him on the back floor of his father's car.

Connor woke up sometime after 11 am. "Where are we?" he asked, peeking between the front seats.

"Middle of upstate New York," Haytham said, not bothering to look behind him.

"Oh." Connor wiggled out of the sleeping back and into the back seat. He sat in the middle and buckled in. "Morning," he chirped, a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Morning Connor," Haytham said automatically. Connor tapped his knee has he waited for realization to dawn on his father. He watched as Haytham noticed him in the rearview mirror. He gave his father a little wave, smirking triumphantly. " _Connor!_ "

The car came to a screeching halt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft 
> 
> Muwhahahahaa! Lucky dogs get two chapters for Saturday!
> 
> So Connor stoleaway in Haytham's car to get to Boston. Will he make it? I have nothing to really say about this chapter other than I like Connor and Aquila.
> 
> Every time you don't review a Templar kills a puppy. So think of Connor and the puppies!
> 
> Save an author (and puppies!); leave a review!


	10. Forgive Me My Sins

The cars zoomed by, sometimes the drivers would glance at them as if they were insane. Perhaps they were, Connor mused as he watched the various vehicles zip by him on I-95. His father paced up and down talking to his mother on the phone. Connor felt rather proud of his mischievous gambit of stowing away in Haytham's car, even if he felt guilty about making his mother worry.

The shock he induced into his father nearly caused an accident, but Haytham had managed to avoid one and pull to the side of the road. Instead of getting the expected tongue-lashing he prepared for, they got out of the car and Connor watched as Haytham called his mother. "What _were_ you thinking!" Haytham hissed at him, while awaiting Ziio to pick up the phone. Connor grinned and shrugged. "Connor, your mother would like a word," Haytham said and handed the phone to him. Connor took it, pressing the device to his ear.

"Hi Ista!" he chirped, sound way to chipper for the situation at hand.

"Are you please with yourself, Ratonhnhaké:ton!" Ziio asked, her voice rather shrill through the phone. "You gave me a heart attack!"

"What about Grandpa Edward?" Connor asked, hoping he didn't inadvertently kill his grandfather. He was rather fond of the old man.

"He thought it was the funniest thing," Ziio said and heaved a great weary sigh, "but that's not the point! I thought someone kidnapped you!"

Connor continued to smile. His mother was furious and rightly so, but she was yelling at him in English, not Mohawk or a combination of the two languages. This was a good sign, it meant he'd get his way, if he played his cards right. Connor sniffed and let out a shaky breath. "I-I'm sorry Ista," he said, "but I wanted to protect you, and the only way is to go to Boston with Haytham." Connor explained, whimpering a bit for dramatic effect. "Please understand, I have to do this!" He watched as his father roll his eyes in exasperation. Connor waited for his mother to say something as the cars sped by.

"Alright," Ziio eventually sighed. "At least I know you're safe. Now, I want you to mind your father why you're with him in Boston. Do exactly as he says otherwise he'll put you on the first bus back to Moose Park and I'll pick you up there, do you understand me?" Ziio asked.

Connor couldn't allow himself to look too happy, so he schooled his face and nodded. "Yes, Ista, I'll be good."

"That's my brave Ratonhnhaké:ton! Call me every night and be good for Haytham," Ziio said.

"I will. Do you want to talk to him, again?" Connor asked.

"Yes," Ziio answered and Connor handed his father the phone. He didn't have to wait long before Haytham hung up with a sigh.

"Well, get in, we have a ways to go yet before we reach Boston," Haytham said. Connor grinned and got into the front passenger seat. Haytham started the car and they drove off. "You do realize that once we get to Boston you're grounded right?"

"Yeah, right," Connor snorted as he watched the scenery out the window.

"I can turn this car around and head back to Eagle's Point right now," Haytham warned. Connor glanced at his father before shrugging. "Good now to lay some ground rules," Haytham began.

"Can't you act like a parent once we get to Boston? You're running my savoring of the moment," Connor whined. Haytham sighed, counted to ten, but didn't say anything in reply.

The rest of the car trip was conducted in silence; or rather, Connor stuck his headphones in and turned up the volume on his phone to tune out Haytham and any attempts to form anything resembling the bond between father and son.

* * *

 

They reached Haytham's apartment in Boston the next day, shortly after having lunch at Subways. Connor looked around at his father's apartment. It was counter to what he expected a bachelor pad was supposed to look like. "Wow," Connor said, "it's rather neat."

"I like to keep my home organized," Haytham said. Connor felt Haytham's eyes on him as he wandered around the house. There were no pictures, save for a couple of landscape images to give the place more cheer. Connor pushed the door open to Haytham's room, with the bed and shelves all tidy. His desk was the only thing in disarray. Connor snorted and opened the door across the small hallway. This room was empty, save for the ready-made bed. "I'm assuming this is my room, huh?" Connor asked.

"For the time being, yes," Haytham replied. "Now to establish some ground rules. You will not enter my room under any circumstances save for emergencies," Haytham said.

"Uh-huh." Connor tossed his duffel bag onto his bed, wondering when the last time this room was even used.

"You will also listen to me! Especially when I say _Connor Kenway_ , do you understand?" Haytham asked. That got Connor's attention and he turned to face the man that was his father. He folded his arms across his chest and glowered at Haytham.

"Oh, I understand," Connor said, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to do it."

"I am your father!" Haytham snapped.

"No," Connor corrected, "you aren't my father. You are my _sire_. There's a difference. If you were my father, you wouldn't have abandoned me and my mother for fourteen years!"

"For the last time! I didn't abandon you or your mother! She left me before you were born and I didn't even know she was pregnant!" Haytham explained.

"Right. A convenient excuse, especially considering my mom isn't even here to confirm it!" Connor shot back.

"That's…" Haytham sighed, Connor would make a good lawyer if he ever went into law. "Let's not get into that argument. You will listen to _Connor Kenway_ , that is your name right?" Haytham asked, realizing how stupid it was to assume that Connor even had his last name.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton Connor Kenway," Connor replied. "Right on my birth certificate."

"I see." Haytham nodded. "I'm surprised she gave you my name," he muttered.

Connor snorted. "Do you want to know why I don't listen to you?" he asked, closing the gap between him and his father. He didn't give Haytham a chance to answer before pressing on. "It's because I don't respect you. And really, why should I? Yes, we're related by blood but that's as far as our kinship goes. You aren't my father and never will be!"

"Now, Connor… son—"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that like it's supposed to mean something to me? It doesn't, okay!" Connor shouted.

"Connor, here is no need to yell," Haytham said, trying to placate his son.

"Just shut up! I only came here to stop the bad guys from hunting my mom not to get all buddy-buddy with you!"

"Connor—"

"And I don't want a relationship with you either! Considering you never bothered to find me or anything! For fourteen years I had to listen to other kids tell stories about how awesome their dads were! I never got that chance! I never got to be proud of my dad, because I didn't have one!"

"Connor please, if you just—"

"And then you suddenly appear out of nowhere! The only reason you are in my life is because my mom needs help and she came to you for it! Why? I don't know, considering I find you nothing more than a pompous self-righteous asshole!"

"Connor, I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize! I'm all out of forgiveness anyway!" Connor shouted and slammed the door in his father's face. He stalked over to his bed before jumping on it and proceeded to punch the pillow until he gave into his tears.

Haytham started when his son slammed the door in his face. "I'm sorry, son," Haytham whispered and heard a knock at the door. He went to answer the door, smiling tiredly at the shriveled old lady before him. "Hi, Mrs. Weathersbee!"

"I heard shouting, Haytham. Is everything alright?" she asked in a reedy voice. Haytham forced a smile.

"Yes, yes, everything is alright, just… the TV. Watching one of those trashy dramas," he said. "Nothing to worry about Mrs. Weathersbee."

"Are you sure?" she asked, trying to peer into his apartment. "Mittens didn't get into your apartment again did he?"

"No, that cat has been dead for twenty years," Haytham said.

"Mittens isn't dead, Haytham, I told you, Mittens ran away," the old woman said. Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose. "But if you say there was no shouting then I'll go. Have a good day."

"Good bye Mrs. Weathersbee," Haytham said, but the old lady suddenly stopped and looked over at him.

"Whatever happened to that nice girl you dated Haytham?" Mrs. Weathersbee asked. Haytham was taken aback but the question; considering he had on and off dealings with the elderly woman for years, never once had she ever asked him a personal question.

He swallowed tightly. "We… we broke up… a long time ago," he forced out, then cleared his throat and looked at anything other than the old woman.

"That's a real shame," Mrs. Weathersbee said, "She was a nice girl, pretty too. You two would've had cute children. Well, goodbye, give a holler if you find Mittens!"

"Will do Mrs. Weathersbee," Haytham said and closed the door.

* * *

 

_One month earlier_

It was one of his rare days off and he was going to savor it. He had to get through _A Storm of Swords_ if he wanted to watch season four of the TV adaptation. So, he made himself a hearty breakfast and some tea before settling down to eat and enjoy his book.

He was only three pages in from where he left off, with his bacon and eggs mostly untouched, when he heard a knock on the door. "I haven't seen Mittens, Mrs. Weathersbee!" Haytham bellowed. There was no answer save for another knock. "I'm not lying Mrs. Weathersbee, I don't have your cat nor have I seen it!" he called, wondering if he just ignored whomever it was at the door if they'd take the hint and leave. They didn't and knocked a third time.

Frowning since Jon Snow's adventure with the wildlings was going to have to wait; Haytham set his book down before heading over to the door and answering it. He was going to give the person a sharp retort about disturbing people and sent them packing but the words caught in his throat when he saw whom it was. "Ziio?" he asked, baffled to see his ex-girlfriend standing before him.

"Hey Haytham," she said, smiling weakly as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "Long time, no see, huh?"

"Fifteen years," he replied thickly. He wanted to slam the door in her face for breaking his heart and to take her into his arms and just hold her, never letting her go again. He was about to do the latter when his attention fell upon the surly looking youth that came down the hall. The boy's resemblance to Ziio was uncanny, though Haytham say that the boy's skin tone was lighter than hers, but still…

"Can we come in?" Ziio asked before Haytham could say anything. Mutely he nodded and allowed Ziio and the boy to enter his apartment. He closed the door and followed them to the couch and loveseat. They sat opposite each other. The boy looked unhappy about being here and said so in what Haytham assumed was Mohawk. Haytham cleared his throat.

"I believe some introductions are in order," Haytham said with a glance to the boy.

"Right," Ziio agreed, nudging the boy.

"I'll go first then. Hello, I'm Haytham Kenway, pleasure to meet you," he said and held out his hand. The boy stared at his hand like Haytham was a poisonous viper.

"I don't like being touched," he said, and Ziio elbowed him. The boy grunted in annoyance. "I'm Ratonhnhaké:ton," he said.

"Raydoon… I'm sorry," Haytham said, realizing that he won't be able to wrap his tongue around the boy's name.

"Ra-doon-ha-ge-doon," the boy said much slower, as if Haytham was obtuse. "It's not that hard to say."

He wasn't in the mood to pronounce complex names, instead he asked, "Do you have a nickname or something?"

"Connor," the boy said, "it's my middle name."

Haytham nodded. "So, Ziio… what brings you and your surly brother to my apartment?"

Ziio laughed as Connor continued to scowl. "My brother? Hahahaha! Haytham, Ratonhnhaké:ton isn't my brother," she said.

"Alright, then who the bloody hell is he and why is he with you?" Haytham asked. He was rapidly losing his patience with this woman. How dare she waltz back into his life, opening up that old wound on his heart, and bring along some unknown teenage boy! Did she have no idea how much she hurt him? How depressed he was after their break-up that he almost climbed into the bottle and never came out? How dare she have the audacity to—

"I beg your pardon but can you repeat that?" Haytham found himself saying, having missed what Ziio said. She frowned at him.

"I said: Haytham, Ratonhnhaké:ton, is my son… _our_ son."

* * *

 

_Boston, Massachusetts — Present day_

Connor heard the door to his room open. He had been dozing, but now that he was awake, he wanted to do something. "Connor, son, wake up."

"I'm awake," Connor said, not looking at Haytham. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five, I have dinner ready," Haytham replied. Connor sat up, debating if he should eat with Haytham or not. He could smell the food and his stomach growled. "Hungry?"

"Yeah," Connor replied tiredly as he slid off the bed and followed his father out into the kitchen. Sitting atop the counter were two plates of food. It was chicken smothered in creamy mushroom gravy with rice and, peace and carrots. Connor's mouth began to water as he took a seat. They ate in silence, the klink-klink of silverware hitting plates were the only sounds that filled the air. "It's good," Connor said after a while.

'I'm surprised you're eating it actually," Haytham said. "Considering you might think I poisoned it."

Connor shook his head. "You wouldn't' do that, cause you know my mom would kill you." Connor said, grinning when Haytham was forced to agree.

"So what do you normally do on Thursday night?" Haytham asked.

"Do my homework before dinner, then Ista and I would watch _The Big Bang Theory_ while we ate. Then whatever else was on after it. Next, I'd help her with the dishes." Connor shrugged. "Shower then bed, why?"

"I could never understand her fascination with that show," Haytham said.

"It's really good. I like the humor," Connor said.

"That aside, the tall skinny guy is so obnoxious and the way he treats his girlfriend is deplorable," Haytham groused as he scooped up some rice.

"Sheldon? He's funny," Connor said. "He and Amy have sex in season nine. Mom and I DVR it."

"Right, well… we won't be watching that," Haytham said.

"Lemme guess, _Downtown Abbey_ then?"

"Don't be stupid, no. We're going to watch something good. Like _The Game of Thrones_ ," Haytham said.

"I'm not allowed to watch that show, plus we can't buy HBO," Connor said.

"Have you read the books?" Haytham asked.

"No, I do a lot of outdoors things," Connor replied. "I read sometimes though, mostly horror and thrillers."

"Well, at least you read," Haytham said. Connor frowned, wondering what his father had against his choice of reading material. The conversation trailed off after that and Connor helped with the dishes, before sitting on the couch. They bickered over what to watch before settling on a nature documentary about wolves. Connor eventually fell asleep during it and woke up when his father had picked him up and carried him to bed, he didn't say anything just pretended to be asleep as his father tucked him into bed.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there your entire life," Haytham whispered, stroking his forehead and hair. "But I'm here now, and if you just let me, I'll do my best to make up all the time we have missed." He paused before whispering, "Forgive me son," and pressed a kiss against Connor's forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Haytham's reaction to Ziio's news will appear in the next chapter. I wanted it to be in this chapter but the ending scene just felt… proper. Yes, Connor was awake during it, but he was pretending to be asleep and Haytham didn't realize that he wasn't.
> 
> Spoiler Alert for people that watch The Big Bang Theory!
> 
> To me, Connor seems a tad OOC with the highway scene, but… he is a fourteen-year-old kid, and defying Haytham is like a hobby of his.
> 
> Every time you don't review a Templar kills puppies and kittens. Think of Connor, the puppies and kittens.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	11. Sucker Punched

_One month earlier_

Haytham must have misheard her. She couldn't have said that the pouty teenager on his couch was his son! Could she? "P-Pardon?" he asked, blinking rapidly several times. He ran his hand along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble. He hadn't shaved that morning.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton is your son," Ziio repeated slowly as Haytham had suffered a serious brain injury. "He was born April 4th, 2002."

"I see." It was the only thing he was able to say; Haytham looked around a bit nervously before he stood up. "Can… can we have a word in private, Ziio?" he asked. Ziio glanced at her… no, _their_ son, who merely nodded. She got up and followed Haytham into his bedroom.

"Spare as ever; I see," Ziio commented looking around his tidy room as he closed the door behind him. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She hadn't changed at all. Still wore faded blue jeans and an old shirt, her black hair done in two braids with feathers as well, tribal jewelry still adorn her neck and wrists.

"What bloody game are you trying to pull, Ziio?" Haytham snapped, barely keeping his anger in check. She must've been taken aback by his sudden hostility for she stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Excuse me?"

Haytham ran his hand along his jaw again, organizing his thought, before pushing away from the doorframe. "You show up unannounced, fourteen years after you broke up with me, with a surly teenager in toe, claiming said teenager is my son! So, I ask you again: What fucking game are you playing?"

Ziio scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and assuming a hostile stance. "There is no game Haytham. Ratonhnhaké:ton is your son!"

"There is no way! You weren't pregnant when we broke up!" Haytham pointed out. He would have known if she was, he would have never let her walk away if he had known.

"I was pregnant," Ziio said, "only a couple of weeks. You never bothered to ask me," she snapped.

"That's a bold face lie!" he shouted, leveling his index finger at her. "I did ask! You just never bothered to tell me! Do you realize you broke my heart?"

"You also promised you'd never leave me, that you'd be there for me, for our son!" Ziio snapped, anger flashing in her brown eyes.

"I tried Ziio! I tried!" Haytham said, running a hand along his hair, only then realizing he hadn't pulled it back. "I looked for you for months! I called your phone dozens of times only to get nothing! I went to your work and the reservation!"

"You went to the reservation?" Ziio asked, momentarily baffled that he went there.

"Yes, and I was interrogated by your family!" Haytham gave a little shudder. "Your mother scares me. She's so tiny… yet her glare can fell trees." Ziio couldn't help but chuckle at that, since it did sound like her family. "And at the end of every dat I drank myself into a stupor. Do you realize how broken hearted I was?"

"Of course," Ziio said, throwing up her hands, "just guilt trip me, drag me into your pity party, why don't ya?" Ziio glowered at him. "What about me? You never once thought about me! What I wanted! And Braddock… he got off because of you!"

Haytham pinched his nose, wondering if she'll ever let him live that detail down. "I told you that night, my involvement was minimal! I was fresh out of law school!"

"That man killed my brother! Did you ever think about me Haytham?" Ziio shouted.

"I didn't even now you then, let alone know I was going to fall in love with you!" Haytham shouted, throwing up his hands. Ziio snorted. "You know what? I give up! I'm not a man that gives up, but with you Ziio, I'll make a fucking exception!"

"Jeez, I'm flattered," she replied sarcastically.

"I was going to propose to you the night you left," Haytham said, nearly at his wits' end, it must be why he was telling her this of all things. It caught her off guard, regardless.

"Pr-Propose? Like marriage?" she asked.

"Yes! I was. I even found a little house with ten acres near the reservation. I was looking into a job at the local community college's legal department to teach law," Haytham said, looking at his desk. "You said you wanted a house on enough land that you could build a barn and have a horse or two."

"Why… why didn't you tell me this?" Ziio asked, taking a step forward. She would have been happy with such a life. A little farm with some chickens, a pig or two and a dog, maybe even a cat. Ratonhnhaké:ton would have been able to play outside and have his father.

"It was going to be a surprise," Haytham muttered. "Yet you had to go and leave me! I've been… living but I never really got over you."

"Haytham," Ziio whispered, clutching at her arms. She couldn't look at him, overcome by the guilt.

"Why are you here? Did you feel that it was time for our son to meet me?" Haytham asked.

"You may want to use his name, Haytham. I know you won't be able to say Ratonhnhaké:ton, but at least call him Connor."

"Just answer my question, Ziio," Haytham asked tiredly.

"I need your help," she said. Haytham snorted.

"Why would I help you, the woman that broke my heart and kept my son from me?"

"You did that to yourself!" Ziio snapped.

"I did not! I tried to find you! I tried! Especially after that freaky phone call, I got one spring of a woman that maybe said my name with a baby in the background! I exhausted every possible resource I had in my spare time, trying to find you Ziio! Now you come back, tell me I have a son and that you want a favor from me?" Haytham gave her a level stare.

"Look, I'm sorry. I should have told you… contacted you…" Ziio said, twisting her fingers.

"You kept me from him. My own child! I missed his birth, his first smile, first laugh, first word, first steps… first Christmas, first birthday! All of it! I never got to teach him how to throw a ball or ride a bike! All because you thought I was… some horrible devilish monster!"

"You betrayed me!"

"How! I didn't know you then! But if I could go back and change time I would have declined Birch's offer if I had known it was going to cause this much shit!" Haytham shouted. He paced for a bit, before looking at her. "What's your predicament?" he asked.

"I saw Braddock murder someone. Now he wants my blood," Ziio said.

Haytham groaned, and looked out the window. "I want custody," he said after a lengthy pause. "At least joint custody when this is all over. He spends the last two weeks of every month with me. I do this for you and I get to be in my son's life."

"No. I came here because you told me that you'd help me if I'm ever in a trouble and—"

"Yes, that was before you broke my heart, before you kept my own son from me! If you don't want my help now fine, but then I will sue for full custody, and I'll make sure you never see Connor again until he's eighteen." Haytham threatened and watched Ziio's face drain of color and her knees give out. She had to steady herself against the wall.

"You… you… you _can't do that, Haytham!_ He's my son! Mine! You can't take my son from me!" She lunged at him, intending to beat him to a pulp but he caught her by the wrists. He saw primal fury in her eyes and wondered if he'd actually be able to follow through on his threat.

"I can and I will. I know how to manipulate the law to my will. Besides, I know just by looking at you, that you've had hard times. Has he shoplifted yet? If not, it's only a matter of time. I have a good job, steady income, I could provide for him and give him a better life than what he has now," Haytham pointed out.

Ziio sniffed, hanging her head, since she didn't want to meet his eyes. "Why are you such a heartless bastard, Haytham?" she asked and tugged at her wrists, which he let go and she pulled towards her.

Haytham cupped her cheek and wiped away her tears, she as so beautiful, frightened and broken like that, the tears making her brown eyes bright. He wanted to kiss her, soothe her, but he held back. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Because love is a cruel heartless thing," he breathed. They fell into a pregnant silence, only broken by the sound of Ziio's sniffles.

"Haytham…" she whispered, fingers finding his shirt and bunching up the fabric. She still felt safe with him; maybe she had been lying to herself about not loving him anymore. When he looked at her with those heartbroken grey eyes, she knew in that moment that she still loved him. "I'm sorry," she said, tongue licking a tear from her lip. He sighed and gave her a rueful smile.

"Give me a few days but I'll help," he finally said, not knowing what he was getting himself into, but knowing this maybe the second chance he was hoping for. "I have to make a phone call."

* * *

 

_Boston, Massachusetts_ _—_ _Present day_

Connor was eating Cheerios while watching cartoons. The TV suddenly changed to the national news. "Hey! I was watching that!" Connor looked up at his father.

"Don't watch such rubbish! It rots your brain," Haytham said, turning on the electric kettle that sat on the counter in all of its black plastic and electrical glory. It always had enough water in it for a cup of tea. "You're coming with me to the office, today." Haytham announced as he cracked some eggs into a bowl.

"Why can't I just stay here?" Connor asked.

"Because I frankly don't trust you to _stay_ in here!" Haytham gestured around the apartment. Connor pouted. "I'm also curious as to what you plan to do in Boston."

"I told you, get those guys that tried to kill us!" Connor said.

"And what are you going to do once you find them?" Haytham asked, as he melted some butter into a hot frying pan. He poured his beaten eggs into the pan; the sound of sizzling eggs filled the room.

"Irunno," Connor muttered, pouting. "I'd think of something."

"Connor, you're fourteen, and they are older, bigger and meaner than you. They also have no qualms about killing you," Haytham said. Connor scowled as he ate his cereal, though he thought about the sobering words his father said.

"What… what do you suggest I do then?" Connor asked after Haytham said down with his plate of scrambled eggs.

"We tag team this task," he said. "I take care of all the legal stuff and get the police to arrest them. You snoop and report back anything you hear or see to me."

"So you want me to spy on these guys?" Connor asked.

"Exactly! You can't logically go up against them on your own and I'm too busy to leave the office, plus I need a witness if I have any hopes in locking them p for good. You could be that witness. It may also lead us to Braddock's arrest, which will mean your mother will be safe."

Connor frowned, it all wasn't very thrilling. "It doesn't sound very exciting."

"Espionage isn't exciting Connor. It's dull work," Haytham said.

"But… if we do this… it'll help protect my mom right?" Connor asked.

"Yes, and the sooner this is taken care of, the sooner we can go our separate ways," Haytham said. He mentally frowned, unsure as to why he said that.

"You're leaving me!" Connor asked, dropping his spoon with a splash. "You can't leave me—us! I mean," Connor screwed his eyes shut, "you can't just leave us like that after it's all over!"

"I thought you didn't want to be all 'buddy-buddy' with me?" Haytham said before filling his mouth with eggs. Connor pouted. "Did you change your mind?" Haytham asked.

"No! It's just… Ista smiles more with you around and I won't be able to go sailing again with Grandpa Edward," Connor said, looking at the TV. He refused to admit that he didn't want to lose his father, not after he finally found him, but Haytham didn't know that. Connor began to eat his cereal again; maybe he still had an ounce of forgiveness left.

* * *

 

Connor had decided he didn't like the law firm building. It was stuffy and everyone looked grouchily unhappy. He wasn't too impressed with his father's co-workers either. Though he guessed the absent William Johnson was okay, since he specialized with the legal affairs of Native Americans and traveled all over the United States helping them out, and Shay Cormac… maybe. The others he definitely didn't like, especially the grabby lady Madaeleine.

So he sat on the bench facing her desk, trying not to die of boredom. It was the fifth time he undid the brain that hung by his right ear. The beads were on his thigh and he softly sang a Mohawk fold song under his breath as his fingers worked. He wondered if Haytham would come to the powwow in the summer. It would be nice if he could.

Connor was jerked out of his musings by a thump on the bench next to him. Cautiously he glanced over to see a teenage black girl, her kinky hair pulled into a low ponytail that had been divided into several smeller braids, red ribbons woven in. She had an oval shaped face, a scar on the left side of her lip and two on her eyebrow on the same side. The girl wore a turtleneck with jeans and black boots; her jacket was thrown across her lap. Connor couldn't help but stare at her, never being so close to a girl before that wasn't his mother.

She had boobs. Bigger than the boobs, he'd seen on his female classmates. They weren't giant jugs nor were they small and barely there. They were perfectly round lumps of flesh, and he couldn't help but stare and the only thought going through his head was that she had boobs.

She must've felt his eyes on her for she glanced his way. Connor looked away quickly and scooted closer to the edge. He finished his brain and awkwardly stared at the floor, tracing patterns in the carpet with his shoe.

The crabby lady seemed to have noticed the girl by this point. "Aveline, what are you doing here?" Madaeleine asked.

"Gérald found this!" Aveline said as she stood up and walked over to Madaeleine's desk. Connor didn't see what she slapped down upon the desk's glossy surface. "It's the third one this month!" Connor watched as Madaeleine picked up whatever Aveline has slapped onto the desktop. "Can't you do something, Madaeleine?"

"Fake IDs are very hard to trace, dear," Madaeleine said.

"Don't you have friends in the police department?" Aveline asked.

"It's not that simple," Madaeleine tried to explain. Aveline snorted and pushed away from the desk, taking the fake ID back as she did so.

"Then I must get to the bottom of this by myself!" she declared and put her coat on.

"Aveline!" Madaeleine called, but the girl ignored her. Connor watched Aveline leave, she didn't so much as glance at him, which was find with him since he noticed her boobs bounced slightly when she walked. He wondered what that was about as he tucked some loose hair behind his ear. The girl didn't return, he put her out of his mind until he noticed that her cell phone was lying on the ground. Eyes widening, having been a witness to girls in his class losing their phones and the mass hysteria it induced; Connor put on his coat before stooping to pick up the device.

"If… if Mr. Kenway asks where I am, tell him I went to get coffee!" Connor told Madaeleine. The woman just waved her hand at him. Connor waited a heartbeat or two before he ran after the girl.

* * *

 

The Boston air was crisply cold, stinging Connor's face as he tugged his white beanie down over his ears and slipped his gloves on. "Now which way did she go?" he muttered as he looked around, unable to find the girl, then he spotted her on the other side of the street exiting a Starbucks. He took off after her. "Hey! Wait! I need to talk to you!" he called to her. She glanced up, startled, before she took off running. "Hey!" he called again. "Wait! Stop!" Connor called, before he muttered a curse and took off after the girl.

She led him through the maze of Boston's alleyways. He couldn't understand why she fled, he was just trying to return her phone. He spotted her going around a corner and put on a burst of speed in hopes of catching. When he rounded the corner, her fist slammed into his face, right between the eyes. He staggered, her leg hooking around his ankle and pulling him forward, while her knee slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Finally, her elbow slammed into his back and he fell down another the ground with a grown. "Uh….ow…" he groaned. His eyes grew wide when he felt her hands grab his shoulders and flip him onto his back, his head smacking against the pavement with enough force to make him wince. Connor swallowed nervously when he heard the _snick_ of a knife and felt the cold blade press against his cheek.

"Who are you? What do you want? Why were you following me?" the girl snapped.

"C-Connor! R-Returning this!" he fished out her phone, the shiny black screen glinting in the muted sunlight.

"Oh," the girl sat back, her butt resting on his upper thighs. Connor realized that she was straddling his waist. He went perfectly still and made sure he kept his hands near his shoulders. "Thanks." She smiled and took her phone from his numb hand. Connor suddenly realized that he liked her smile a lot. He smiled back, though it was somewhat forced and weak. The girl sheathed her pocketknife before getting off him. Connor suddenly missed the weight of her body against his and very aware that the ground was cold and hard and that his back really hurt. The girl grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "Sorry, I'm not very trusting by nature, so you startled me."

"That's okay," Connor said, brushing dirt off of his clothes before he looked up at her. She was slightly taller than him, but that was only because he had more to grow.

"Let's try introductions again. I'm Aveline," she said.

"Co— Ratonhnhaké:ton," he said, wondering why he gave her his first name. Nobody but his mother called him by that name. Aveline tilted her head to the side.

"Say it again? This time slower," she asked. Connor flushed and looked at his feet.

"Just call me Connor, most people do anyway," he mumbled and glanced around, wondering if he'll be able to find his way back to the law firm building.

"No, I want to get your name right," Aveline insisted. Connor frowned, finding that rather odd.

"Alright," he said squaring his shoulders. "It's Ratonhnhaké:ton. Ra-doon-ha-ge-doon."

"Raw-dune-hay-guh-dune," Aveline repeated. "Did I get it?"

"Better than most on their first try," he admitted.

"I'll stick with Connor for now, but I'll practice," Aveline said. "Thanks for returning my phone."

"No problem," Connor replied. "So… how do I get back?"

"Oh… right," Aveline drawled, a blush coloring her cheeks. "I should take you back."

 _And an apology for beating me up would be nice, too!_ Connor thought but he didn't say that, instead he just nodded, staring at her mutely.

"Well, I wanted to look for them," Aveline said, rubbing her forehead.

"I can help you," Connor blurted out, an earnest expression on his face. Aveline frowned.

"Look, you returned my phone and all but I still don't trust ya," she said. "Not enough anyway to help me look for what I'm searching for."

"Oh, that's perfectly understandable," Connor agreed, "we just met and it would be rude for me to go prying into your… personal affairs." He looked at his feet, feeling stupid for offering to help Aveline.

"Besides, you look like a cute lost puppy," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. Connor scowled.

"I don't look like a puppy," Connor grumbled.

"C'mon, it's this way," Aveline said and began to lead the way. Connor sighed and followed the girl.

* * *

 

When he got back to the law firm, his father was about ready to pull his hair out with worry. "Connor! Thank goodness, there you are! Where in the world have you been?" Haytham asked, rushing over to him and putting his hand on his shoulder to draw him close. Connor frowned and slipped away but remained within grapping distance of his father. Haytham looked at the split skin between his eyes. "What happened?"

"That'll be my fault Mr. Kenway," Aveline said. Haytham glared at her as if she beat his puppy and Connor was wondering if Aveline's lost puppy analogy wasn't that far off. "Connor was chasing me, trying to return my phone and I will… beat him up," she explained.

"Is this true?" Haytham asked. Connor scowled, not liking the mirth on his father's face.

"She sucker punched me in the face as I rounded the corner!" Connor grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Haytham chuckled softly at Connor's reaction. Connor scowled even more so because of it.

"Thanks for bringing him back Aveline," Haytham said.

"I better get home," Aveline said. "Bye Mr. Kenway, it was nice meeting you Connor." She waved bye to them, Haytham returned it but Connor just continued to look surly.

"We'll go to the doctor's in a bit and get your face looked at and those stiches taken out," Haytham said, taking Connor by the chin to look at his face. Connor grumbled and pulled his face free.

"Sorry I worried you," Connor said. "I told the crabby lady I was going to get coffee. I didn't think she would lead me into an ally and sucker punch me."

Haytham frowned before nodding, patting Connor on the back. "That's quite alright. At least you're safe, for the most part," Haytham said.

"Are you done here? I'm about ready to keel over from boredom," Connor said. Haytham sighed.

"No, I have a few more—" he glanced at Connor's face before sighing. "I suppose the others can handle it or I'll just get it done tomorrow. Let me get my coat then we'll go. Are you hungry? We'll have dinner somewhere you like?"

"Ista and I would go to a diner on the reservation and have elk burgers," Connor said, brightening at the memory.

"The reservation is a bit out of the way, but if you like burgers I'm sure we can stop off somewhere," Haytham said as he pulled on his coat.

"Okay… cool," Connor agreed.

"Good, now let's go. If I'm going to leave, I better do it now." Haytham began to briskly walk towards the elevator and Connor followed.

* * *

 

_Eagle's Point, Maine_

"Yes… love you too sweetie, bye!" Ziio said and hung up. She dropped her hands from her ears and set the phone on the counter top. It was rather loud in pub, considering that she didn't think there were _that_ many people in Eagle's Point. She took a sip of her beer and a bite of chicken wing.

"So, how are Haytham an' Connor doin'?" Edward asked as he wiped a spot on the bar near where she was sitting.

"Oh, they are doing fine. Haytham managed to find a restaurant that serves bison burgers of all things. Ratonhnhaké:ton was ecstatic," Ziio said with a smile. "He also got sucker punched by a girl."

"Who? Haytham?" Edward asked, a bit surprised his son would get sucker punched by a girl. Ziio shook her head.

"No, Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio explained before eating a few fries. Edward laughed before leaning close to her.

"Twenty bucks says that girl will end up being his wife," Edward said.

Ziio snorted. "Unlikely, but make it fifty and you have yourself a wager."

"Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> And yeah… Edward and Ziio bet on Connor's romantic future.
> 
> Connor's stupid around girls. He's fourteen, so he has hormones, he just doesn't know what to do with them yet and Ziio raised him to be a good boy around woman. So he just kinda goes ….uuuuh…. *brain dead* around them.
> 
> I don't like Gérald. Even on my first play through of Liberations I didn't like him. I always found that he was creepy. Even more so now. So yeah, he's the creepy friend of Aveline's that really likes her but she just keeps friend-zoning him.
> 
> Haytham is kinda dick in the beginning. I mean, his dickness is justified… but still… a dick. For those of you that are worried about Haytham following through on his threat, I always have happy endings for my fanfics. Unless the story really calls for a sad ending or I have planned for a sad ending.
> 
> Everyone, Aveline has arrived for sassy awesomeness! Aveline is aged down for this fic. She's 17, about three years older than Connor. 
> 
> Templars kill puppies, kittens and a little bit of my soul every time you don't review. So, think of Connor, the puppies and kittens, and my soul.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	12. Empty Picture Frames

All was still in the abandon warehouse, though the nighttime silence was broken every other heartbeat by the sound of a fist colliding with a body. This rhythmic sound continued for several minutes before the abuser stopped and glowered at the heaving prone body on the ground before him, bathed in the harsh light of the flood lamp. "That's what you get for failing me," Braddock said, wiping some blood off his lip with his hand. The blood wasn't his own. The man on the ground moaned weakly as he rolled to his side, blinking through the blood.

Braddock pushed his way through the crowd of his men. He expected obedience and jobs completed, not botched jobs like this recent endeavor. How could his men be so incompetent? That was a whole month's supply of the finest Afghani opium, now in the hands of the Boston Police Department. He couldn't abide by such sloppiness. It wasn't tolerated in the Marines and it wasn't tolerated by his gang. His second in command, Rafael Joaquín de Ferrer walked up to him. "You did what you had to do sir," de Ferrer said, Braddock snorted and took the bottled water de Ferrer was offering him.

"I wish it didn't have to come to that," Braddock muttered. "How goes the fake IDs?"

"Well, our mice are doing their jobs by handing them out to their classmates," de Ferrer said. Braddock nodded as he began to walk to the stairwell that lead to an office box that over looked the warehouse, "Though we may want to curtail the supply for now, so not to draw attention from the cops."

"Why? Is there a problem? There better not be a fucking problem," Braddock growled. He didn't want to deal with anymore problems.

"Well… one of the mice reported an ID bearing the name of a girl… three times… on three separate cards. She's none too happy about it… the girl that particular name belongs to, that is," de Ferrer said. Braddock frowned.

"Use a baby name site from now on to generate the names," Braddock said, "and bribe this student into keeping her mouth shut. Every kid likes a little pocket money."

"Will do, also your lawyer is here, he seemed anxious to talk to you," de Ferrer said. Braddock snorted, he hated dealing with lawyers, but he had a pressing need for them. Hopefully, that savage bitch and her cur of a son were truly dead.

"What does she want?" Braddock muttered and began to ascend the steps that led to the office of the warehouse. He kept it his own base of operations, made life simple. Edward Braddock liked things simple.

He opened the door to see Charles Lee standing there, looking at his desk. "One phone call and I could have the police and FBI down here in a heartbeat," Lee said as Braddock closed the door in de Ferrer's face.

"Yeah, but you won't. I'm your meal ticket," Braddock pointed out. Lee walked away from the desk.

"Hardly, I have other slimier clients than you that will gladly throw money at me to make their problems vanish."

"Why are you here then? I told you the fucking bitch and her kid is dead," Braddock said, folding his arms over his chest. Lee snorted.

"You men botched the job," Lee stated. "The boy's alive."

"What? Impossible! My man assured me they were dead! It was a hundred foot drop!" Braddock said. "How do you know he's alive?"

"Because I saw Haytham Kenway at _Buffalo Bill's_ the other night. He was with a teenage boy, they looked enough alike that a blind man could see the kinship between them," Lee said.

"Just because the boy's alive doesn't mean his mother is," Braddock pointed out and took a sip from his water bottle. "And Haytham Kenway doesn't scare me. He's a washed out lawyer."

"You should be afraid of Haytham Kenway," Lee said, his voice delicate. "He's ruthless and isn't afraid to play dirty when the situation calls for it and he can get away with it by using loop-holes in the law."

"Well, can't you do the same?" Braddock asked. "I pay you enough to do it."

"Not as well as Haytham can, plus it helps that Haytham is in good standing with all the judges of Boston or nearly all of them," Lee said. "I just came by to tell you that you better be careful."

"Don't need to tell me," Braddock said, "though we could use the boy for leverage."

"Let me make one thing clear, there is no _we_ in this game. I am your lawyer."

"You gave me the kid's birth name; it's too late to back out now buddy-boy. Your hands are soiled." Braddock said as he watched Lee scowl. "Though why do you suddenly want out so badly?"

"Haytham Kenway is…" Lee didn't finished as he ran his hand through his hair. Braddock stared at his lawyer for a few seconds before realization dawned on him.

"He scares you," Braddock whispered.

"Yes, he does. We use to be friends before he met his girlfriend and she soured our friendship, but that's beside the point. Haytham Kenway is bloody ruthless in the courtroom, you should know, he got you off on that murder charge."

"Indeed, Birch wanted him partner of Temple Law Firm," Braddock said, vaguely remembering the trail and the speech he would later give at that charity ball. "You can still do what I paid you to do, right?"

"I can," Lee affirmed.

"Good, do it," Braddock said.

"I still suggest you leave anyone involved with Haytham Kenway alone," Lee said, before he exited the room. De Ferrer walked in once Lee was gone.

"I want you to send one guy back up to that hick town and see if that bitch is alive, got it?" Braddock ordered.

"Understood," de Ferrer said.

* * *

Connor slowly pushed the door to Haytham's bedroom open, glad that the hinges were well oiled so they didn't squeak. Haytham had taken his PSVita as punishment for refusing to do the assignments his mother emailed him. Connor didn't understand why he still had to go to school, even if it was homeschool. He walked slowly towards Haytham's desk, putting all of his weight on one foot then the other, there was enough light coming through the crack between the curtains that he could easily see.

Connor paused halfway to the desk at the sound of rustling covers. He glanced over at Haytham, but the man merely shifted in his sleep, mumbling something. Connor shook his head, though he didn't move for several heartbeats. "Forgive me son," Haytham had said to him the first night in Boston. That was several days ago, while Connor still defied Haytham, he was trying to be less standoffish with him. Clearly, Haytham regretted not being around, so Connor reasoned he might give as well give the man a chance.

Connor quickly took the ten steps or so to reach the desk. His PSVita sat on top and Connor grabbed it, mission complete. He was about to leave when something caught his eye. It wasn't anything really noticeable unless you knew Haytham Kenway was rather tidy. Connor slowly slid the slightly ajar drawer out further.

Most of its contents were junk: loose papers, some string, stables, paper clips, the random pen and a stapler. Connor did find an odd square of sealed plastic with a circular ridge in the center and writing on it. It was rather squishy. Connor couldn't read what the wrapper said so he stuck it back into the drawer between the loose papers. He was about to close the door, his curiosity satisfied, when, surprisingly, his mother's image caught his eye. He eased the picture out and stared at it. He couldn't really make it out, so he shuffled to the window and held the photograph near the break in the blinds.

It was the first picture he'd ever seen of his parents together. His father was standing all perfect posture, a smile on his face, making him look at least five years younger than what he was. His hair was dark brown and pulled back into a low ponytail. He wore a tux with a red bow tie.

Beside his father was his mother, in a dazzling white dress, electrum embroidery along the edges of the dress's bodice. She wore a moonstone necklace and earrings, her hair done up in a bun with some curls framing her face. She wore a diamond bracelet with sapphires and amethysts. She was smiling too; Connor had never seen her smile like that before.

Connor sniffed, rubbing at his eyes before he started crying. He had never seen his parents look so happy together. The first time he ever met his father, was only a month ago, and his parents left to speak privately and they promptly fell into a shouting match, which he pretended to ignore. Even up at Eagle's Point his parents tiptoed around each other.

Yet, in the picture, they looked so happy and hopeful about their bright promising future. Connor flipped it over. "Boston Children's Hospital Charity Ball. October 1, 2001," Connor read. His eyes grew wide as he counted backwards from his birthdate and realization dawned on him. His mother was pregnant with him in the picture, even though he couldn't see that she was. He touched the pad of his index finger against his mother's stomach. A family photo… unknowingly, but still a family photo.

Connor tucked the photo behind his PSVita, checked to make sure his father was still asleep before shuffling back over to the desk to pull out the two other ties that had been sitting on top of the picture. One was the bracelet his mother was wearing, the other was a little ring box. Connor opened up the ring box and saw the elegant ring, with its small diamond that glittered like a star. Connor wiggled it out and looked at it, and brought it towards the back towards the light. On the inside of the band he noticed an inscription. "Haytham and Kaneihtí:io, _love always and forever,_ " Connor whispered, surprised the phrase was in Mohawk. It clearly was an engagement ring and Connor wondered why his mother wasn't wearing it in the photo.

Haytham snorted in his sleep causing Connor to start, nearly dropping the ring. He put it and the bracelet back and closed the drawer, before quickly tiptoeing out of his father's bedroom.

Once back in the safety of his own bed, his rescued PSVita in his duffel bag, Connor activated the flashlight app on his phone to study the pilfered picture some more. He couldn't help but wonder what had gone so terribly wrong between his parents that would cause his pregnant mother to leave his father and not speak to him for fourteen years. He wondered if he should ask Haytham or his mother. He traced his parents' faces again before slipping the photo into his pillowcase, turning off his phone and going to sleep.

* * *

"Connor, get up now! I won't tell you again!" Haytham shouted, jarring Connor out of pleasant dreams of growing up with his family whole. "Now!"

"Alright, alright," Connor huffed, "I'm up, no need to yell, jeez. Be out in a minute." Connor got out of bed with a yawn. When he didn't hear his father try to break down the door, Connor pulled out the picture and looked at it for several seconds before putting it back into his pillowcase. He then got dressed and joined his father for breakfast.

He plopped down to a plate of eggs, bacon and toast with a glass of milk sitting near the plate. Connor frowned when he noticed the toast was covered with something. "Are those… beans?" Connor asked, poking it with his fork.

"Yes, eat it before the toast gets soggy," Haytham said.

"Why did you put beans on toast?" Connor asked. "It looks like the guts of a lizard."

"Eat it. It's good," Haytham said. "Your great-grandfather was British, been a family staple for three generations. I lived off of beans and toast in college."

"You said that Birch guy paid for your schooling, though," Connor pointed out. The beans and toast still looked horrid, so instead he ate his bacon. He liked bacon; it was familiar and tasty.

"Birch only paid for tuition and books, the rest I had to pay for by getting a job and not a very good one and it had horrid pay. Sometimes I could only afford to buy a few cans of beans and a loaf of bread," Haytham said, jabbing his fork at Connor.

"Still looks horrid," Connor said eyeing his beans and toast suspiciously.

"I had to eat bee larva when I went to the reservation with your mother for the first time!" Haytham said. "If I can eat bee larva you can surely eat this, Connor. I want your plate clean, understand me or I will give you this for dinner!"

"Why did you eat bee larva when you went to the reservation?" Connor asked as he scraped the beans off the toast. "Don't worry, I'll eat everything. Just not in the manner you presented it."

Haytham snorted and took a bite of bacon. "Because your mother's relatives said it was traditional tribal food and that if I didn't I would insult your mother and her people," Haytham said before taking another bite of bacon.

Connor laughed, covering his face so milk didn't squirt out his nose. He smacked the counter top several times, before he began to gasp for breath. Finally, he calmed down enough to stare at his father. "You know eat don't eat bee larva anymore, right?"

"Your mother told me that one the drive home, but she was happy I went along with it regardless," Haytham said.

Connor nodded. "Of course the real test of manhood is eating a live grasshopper. Maybe you can come to the reservation next summer and prove that you really are a man."

"You're joking right?" Haytham asked.

"Nope!" Connor said. "I had to do it when I turned thirteen, it's expected."

Haytham sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Bother," he grumbled. "Alright, this summer, if things between your mother and I are… stable, I will go to the reservation with you two and eat a live grasshopper."

"Awesome! I'll eat one with you too, just so you don't feel left out," Connor said before attack his breakfast with gusto. They ate in silence for a bit before Connor looked up at Haytham. "Uhm… can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why did you and Ista break up?" Connor asked. Haytham sighed, not looking at Connor for a rather long time. The silence stretched on, Haytham nervously ate his breakfast. "Haytham?" Connor asked, though got no response. Connor cleared his throat. "Father?" he asked again.

That seemed to snap Haytham out of his musings. "We had a disagreement while out one night. Your mother felt the argument was the final straw and left. When I got home she had packed everything she could carry and was gone," Haytham said.

"Yeah, but what happened? What did you do!" Connor pressed.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you Connor, alright?" Haytham said. Connor frowned before spooning some beans into his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Connor said. "I didn't mean to pry." Actually he did, but admitting that aloud would defeat the purpose of the apology.

"It's alright. I understand you're curious and I should—"

"No, it's fine. Forget I asked," Connor said. "I'll bring the stuff Ista emailed me to the office so I can work on it while you do stuff and I'll bring a book as well."

"Good, good," Haytham said, sounding distracted.

"Can we go to _Buffalo Bill's_ for dinner again?" Connor asked.

"Maybe," Haytham said and went back to finishing his breakfast.

* * *

_Eagle's Point, Maine_

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, I… I don't want to discuss why your father and I broke up, it's rather complicated… yes, I'll tell you when I see you again… we'll both tell you how about that? Okay… good, love you too sweetheart, bye!" Ziio said and hung up the phone. She groaned and rested her cheek on the bar counter, knocking on it. "Barkeep, another round!" she shouted.

Edward set a glass down before her with a thunk. "Coke," he said. Ziio shrugged and took a sip of it. "What did Connor want?"

"Oh, just doing his good night call," Ziio said. "He also asked why his father and I broke up?"

"Did ya tell him?"

"No," Ziio said and took a sip of coke. "I couldn't."

"Why did you two break up?" Edward asked. Ziio looked around, wondering if she should answer the old man or not. "Ya gonna have to tell Connor sometime."

"It was stupid really," Ziio said. "Looking back on it, I was just really working out my frustration with the legal system and my grief on Haytham. He didn't deserve that."

"What did he do?" Edward asked, before he pulled out a beer, snapped it open and slid it down to a patron on the other end of the counter.

"He didn't tell me he was part of Edward Braddock's legal team during Braddock's trail for my brother's murder," Ziio said. "I blamed him for the reason why Braddock got off, even though I knew there was more than just that. Lack of witnesses and evidence, my brother's department not wanting to come forward with information… the entire case was poorly handled by both the investigating detectives and the forensic team." Ziio looked at the wood, tracing a pattern in the grain with her eyes. "I was just blamed the first thing that I thought was the problem which was that Braddock had fancy lawyers. When it came out that Haytham questioned the last witness and did the closing arguments, my anger and frustration latched on to him and I…" Ziio sighed, "I let it all out on him. He didn't deserve that because he's right, he didn't have much involvement with the case itself, he was only Birch's note-taker and coffee boy."

"I see," Edward said with a nod. "Sometimes it takes a while for stuff to sink in."

"I should have told him about Ratonhnhaké:ton sooner," Ziio muttered, rubbing her brow. "Do you think I'm a bad mother for keeping cutting Haytham out of Ratonhnhaké:ton's life?"

Edward sighed and scratched at his stubbly cheek. "I think ya did what ya felt was right for both ya an' Connor at the time. Connor seems to have turned out all right so far," Edward said, "no, I don't think you're a bad mother."

"Thanks," Ziio whispered. Edward huffed again before going off to do something in the back, leaving Ziio alone with her thoughts. She had drunk all of her coke by the time he came back.

"Give it to him," Edward said, causing her to jump.

"Give who what?" Ziio asked. "And don't sneak up on my life that either, gave me a heart attack."

"Haytham that second chance you've been mullin' over now for that past thirty minutes," Edward said.

"I don't know, it's just…" Ziio sighed.

"Hard? Aye, I know, but it'll be worth it. Haytham turned out alright, I guess… he's not a bum on the streets at least," Edward said.

"But… you and Haytham still have issues," Ziio pointed out.

"Naturally, but he's my son. A parent is always gonna love their kid," Edward said, "well any decent parent that is. Ya get crazies in every batch."

Ziio chuckled. "Yeah," she agreed.

"At least call him and let him know the offer is on the table," Edward said.

Ziio nodded. "You're right, I should… for Ratonhnhaké:ton's sake."

"Besides, I think I'd like having ya as a daughter-in-law," Edward said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Here are some tissues because I'm sure you all are still sobbing over the photograph scene. The toast and beans is a British thing, and kinda a tribute to my best friend from England.
> 
> Every time you don't review Templars kill baby animals and a part of my soul. Think of Connor, my soul and those baby animals.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	13. Chivalry Still Isn't Dead

It was the final straw. The one that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Aveline had had enough of everyone trying o tell her to forget about her name being on a couple of fake IDs, yet when Thèrés came to her, telling she'll give her two hundred dollars to drop the entire matter, Aveline knew she had to act. She wouldn't let this go, not the way her father did after her mother disappeared. No, Aveline was going to get to the bottom of this. Risky or not, she was sick of people pretending to be her. All she had to do was tail Thèrés to wherever she hung out.

That and ditch Gérald.

"Aveline, please think this through!" Gérald protested, trotting after her as she marched briskly down the streets of Boston, keeping Thèrés's brightly colored hat within sight. "This is dangerous!"

"If you're such a wimp, go home then Gérald. I can take care of myself," Aveline snapped. She could having been taking karate since she was five, after her mother disappeared. She was getting ready for her first black belt test soon.

"Aveline," Gérald whined. Aveline rolled her eyes at the sound. She liked Gérald, he was a nice guy, if a bit wimpy and timid, but his heart was in the right place. She considered him a friend, nothing ore. It creeped her out whenever he tried to hit on her. "Aveline," he said again stepping in front of her. "Please don't do this. I'm worried about you," Gérald.

"Gérald, move!" Aveline shouted, trying to get around him. "I'm losing sight of Thèrés!" Aveline watched as Thèrés rounded a corner and vanished from sight. Aveline shoved Gérald away, before pushing her way through the crowd, and rounded the same corner, colliding with a body.

She staggered, catching herself on the corner of the building as the person she ran into admitted a soft ow. "Are you blind!" Aveline shouted as she scanned the sea of humanity for Thèrés. "I lost her! And it's all your…" Aveline stopped in mid-rant when she saw whom she was yelling at; it was that puppy boy from several days ago. He looked pissed, with his hot chocolate down his front. He grumbled something in a language she didn't understand before looking up at her.

"What's your problem?" he asked. "Can't you watch where you're going?" he glared at her, and slowly his eyes widen as recognition dawned on him. His eyes fell straight to her boobs the next second.

"Eyes up here bub," she snapped, drawing his attention to her face. "You're Connor, right?" she asked. He nodded, mutely. "Sorry I ran into you."

"That's alright, I wasn't paying attention either," Connor replied, the hostility he displayed earlier already gone. Aveline thought he was rather hot-n-cold, reserve and shy most of the time, until you press a nerve and he lashes out.

"Aveline!" Gérald finally caught up with her.

"Not now, Gérald," Aveline sighed. Gérald, ignored her as he slid up to her.

"Who is this?" he asked, eyeing Connor like a viper. He tried to put his hand on the small of her back in a possessive manner, but she smacked his hand away. She wasn't any man's possession, plus she thought she saw Connor bristle and the last thing she needed was a pissing match between either of them. Gérald may be older than Connor, but Aveline got the sense Connor was like a bear, all lanky looking in its youth, yet belying incredible strength.

"Gérald, this is Connor or Ratonhn-guh-dune," she finished. Though she butchered his name, the little spark in his eyes at the attempted made her smile.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," Connor said.

"Pleasure, I'm Gérald Blanc," Gérald said holding out his hand. Connor just stared at it.

"Anyway Gérald, I met Connor a few days ago. His dad works at the same law firm as Madaeleine. He's the son of Mr. Kenway."

"That pompous asshole?" Gérald asked, shocked written all over his face, and he glanced at Connor quickly. Connor wore a white beanie his black hair sticking out from beneath it, a turtleneck peeking out from his coat, and there was a wet spot on his blue and white coat from his hot chocolate, jeans and sneakers completed his rather ordinary outfit. "But he looks like a puppy!"

"Why does everyone say that?" Connor grumbled.

"It's true," Aveline told him. Connor scowled, which caused Aveline to giggle. The scowl made him look even more like a grumpy puppy.

"He doesn't look like Mr. Kenyway's son," Gérald said, "Looks Indian."

"We prefer the term Native American," Connor said a bit tightly, glaring at Gérald. Aveline watched Gérald, flush, his face going tomato red.

"I didn't mean… I meant Indian, er… as someone from the country of India, not Native American," Gérald stammered.

"Are you really Native American? I tried googling your name the day we met but couldn't find what it meant," Aveline said.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton means _life that is scratched_ , and yes I am, half at least. My mother is Mohawk and since I was raised by her I consider myself one too," Connor explained, before stooping down and picking up the empty coffee cup and lid. "I better get going," Connor said. "Nice running into your again, Aveline," Connor added. He walked over to a trashcan, dumping his trash into the waste bin. Aveline frowned. She needed to ditch Gérald. Hopefully Connor wasn't too terribly dense.

"Connor wait! You promised to buy me coffee!" she shouted, running to catch up with him; Gérald was close behind her. Connor stared at her when she reached him again.

"I did?" Connor asked, flummoxed by the situation.

"Yeah, you did," Aveline said.

"I could get you coffee," Gérald said. Aveline sighed as she looked at him.

"Go home, Gérald. Connor and I are on a date," Aveline said.

"We are?" Connor gasped, eyes growing wide.

"You are?" Gérald repeated.

"We are," Aveline confirmed, watching as Connor's face went completely still as she laced her fingers through his. "We better go so he has enough time to get back before his dad loses his head. Bye Gérald, I'll see ya tomorrow at school," Aveline said and dragged a confused Connor through the crowd, letting go of his hand as soon as they were out of Gérald's sight.

Aveline pulled Connor into an alley once she felt they were far enough away. "Thanks for going along with that," Aveline said. Connor nodded. "I guess I owe you an apology for Gérald, he's nice just… he's a good friend, I like him as a friend."

"Okay," Connor said, looking at her slowly, and wondering why she was telling him this in the first place. "Can I ask what you were doing before we ran into each other?"

"I was following someone, but I lost them," Aveline said.

"Maybe I can help. I know how to track," he said sounding proud, "I hunt up on the reservation almost every year."

Aveline shook her head. "You can't track like that in a city, Connor. Besides I don't want to involve you. You're a sweet puppy Connor, something like this puppies shouldn't get into," Aveline said.

"Why not? I'm looking for someone too," Connor said.

"It's personal and I don't trust you," Aveline said, glancing at her watch. "Let's go get that coffee then I'll take you back to the law firm building."

* * *

 

It was warm inside the coffee shop and the hot chocolate was even better than the one he had originally, plus Aveline was nice. "So you're like me," he said, after she explained her heritage. "Half and half. Not really belonging in either world."

"Yes, I guess you can say that. I know what you mean, you have these two identities that are so different and the struggle is putting them together," Aveline said.

"It was easy for me… in the beginning, because I grew up with my mom and all I ever got was the Mohawk side, now my father's in the picture and I have this completely other side to deal with," Connor sighed. He liked talking with her, it was easy to talk with Aveline. She could relate to his struggles of being from two vastly different cultures, and the pain of not having one of your parents in your life. "Did they ever find your mom?" he asked.

Aveline shook her head. "No. They searched for a couple of weeks, arrested a few people but let them go, and then the trail turned cold," Aveline sighed, "my father married my stepmother three months later and after that I was brought to Boston."

"So your parents weren't married?" Connor asked.

"His family didn't approve of him marrying a black woman, so he kept my mother a secret from his family. He'd come and visit me every weekend. When my mother vanished I was sent to the bayou were my uncle Agaté lived. My father moved to Boston after that and I was sent for after he married my stepmother, since he was out of his family's influence, he could openly acknowledge me as his daughter."

"At least you have some memories of your mother. My parents split before I was born. I never knew my father until recently," Connor said, his voice full of biter resentment. "It was tough growing up without a father. All the other kids had cool stories of their fathers, but me. I invented this story that he was some secret spy."

"Do you hate him?" Aveline asked.

"Hate him? Hmm…" Connor shrugged. "I don't know. It's confusing. So what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Connor asked, changing the subject.

"Don't know yet. I want to help people that can't defend themselves, but I don't exactly know what job would best accomplish that. What about you?" she asked.

"A vet, I like animals," Connor said.

"Neat, so what were you doing today?" Aveline asked. Connor looked away, not sure if he should tell her. Exchanging family background was one thing, telling her about the thugs that tried to kill him and his mother was completely different.

"I should get back," Connor said. "Maybe… maybe we can meet again?"

"Alright, and you'll tell me what you were doing," Aveline agreed.

"Only if you tell me what you were doing today," Connor shot back, thinking it was a fair trade. Aveline blanched at that. "Look… we have to learn to trust each other. The only way to do that is to take a leap of faith," he said. Aveline bit her lip; he could see that she was weighing her choices.

"No." Aveline shook her head. "I don't want to involve you Connor. You're nice…"

"I get it," he said, even though he really didn't. It was easier pretending he did for her sake that having her explain it. "It's getting late; my father will start tearing his hair out if I'm not back soon."

"Right," Aveline said, standing up from the table. Connor drained the last of his hot chocolate before following her.

He bid Aveline goodbye, promising they'll meet each other again, though neither swapped email addresses nor phone numbers. Connor sighed as he rode the elevator up, resting his head against the wall. Girls were confusing. He didn't really find any of the girls at his school interesting, but Aveline was different, eh liked spending time with her and he especially liked her smile. Maybe he should ask his father about girls.

* * *

 

The elevator dinged at his floor and Connor stepped out, side stepping a man in a suite. His father was in the lobby talking to a man with a mustache. They were laughing about something, though Connor sensed a strange tension between them; like two wolves ready to fight over the last scrap of meet. Connor slowly walked up to his father. "Haytham?" he said in an even voice, which startled his father.

"Good god, Connor! Don't sneak up on me like that," Haytham said, looking at him. Connor smirked before looking at the other man. He instantly disliked him. It was the same danger warning he felt when he saw a puma in the woods on the reservation one year. He never got that feeling from another human being before. "Connor, this is Charles Lee. We were friends in law school. Charles, my son, Connor," Haytham said, patting Connor's shoulder.

"A pleasure to meet you," Charles said, holding out his hand. Connor glanced at his father swiftly before shaking the man's hand.

"Hello," Connor said evenly, though his voice was icy. He let go of Charles' hand as quickly as possible. He pressed closer to Haytham, trying to put something between himself and this man.

"He looks a lot like your old girlfriend, Haytham," Charles noted. Connor frowned, not liking that this man brought up his mother.

"Ziio is his mother; she was pregnant when we split. A complicated story, for another time, you said you had to meet a client at five-thirty?"

"I did, and I must be off, you know how traffic is," Charles said, picking up his brief case. "Goodbye Haytham, Connor." Charles headed towards the elevator. Connor watched him get in and when the silvery doors closed, and the image of Charles Lee vanished, was when Connor finally let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Well, we better be heading off as well," Haytham said and began to walk towards his office. Connor followed him, since he had left his backpack in there as well.

"I don't like him," Connor said, tightly.

"Your mother didn't like him either," Haytham said, opening the door to his office. Connor glanced at the frosty pane of glass, emblazon upon it in black letters was _H. E. Kenway, defense lawyer_.

"I want to kick his teeth in," Connor said as he closed the door behind him, he heard his father tsked.

"Don't be like that Connor. Yes, Charles views are rather… I should rephrase that, severely outdated, but the man isn't a complete monster."

"Hn." Connor folded his arms over his chest, "Maybe we have different ideas on what makes a man a monster."

"Maybe," Haytham said handing Connor his backpack. "Here, what all do you have in there? A ton of bricks."

"Stuff," Connor replied, slinging a strap over his shoulder.

"Right, stuff," Haytham agreed.

"What does the E stand for?" Connor asked.

"Edward," Haytham replied. "What do you want to eat?"

"Food."

"Don't be cheeky Connor, I'm not in the mood. Have you found anything?"

"No, I don't know where to look."

"Well, there's a report in the paper about a drug bust down by the docks, you might want to check there."

"That's clear on the other side of the city. You told me not to go too far," Connor said, not sure, if he even knew how to get to the docks.

"Take a cab," Haytham said.

"You told me not to do that, if you tell me to do one thing but not the other how am I supposed to do anything?" Connor asked.

"Alright, alright, take the bus then. I'll give you some extra money tomorrow," Haytham said.

"Alright," Connor mumbled falling instep behind his father. Connor sighed, wondering how he'll get to the docks tomorrow.

Connor somehow managed to get to the docks the following day. He even was allowed to leave around noon in order to get there, look around and get back before Haytham was done with work for the day.

* * *

 

There were miles of giant shipping crates with writing in every possible language from countries that traded with the United States. The high-pitched warning beeps of the cranes and other heavy machinery rang at the edge of Connor's hearing as he slowly worked his way towards the more abandoned part of the docks.

Connor wove his way through the rows of the shipping crates, inching close to the abandon warehouse that was mentioned in the paper the other day. He stopped suddenly when he heard a familiar voice. "Aveline?" he muttered, following the voice to a dead-end in maze.

Two thugs, in their late teens or early twenties by the looks of them, had Aveline cornered. She was doing her best to hold her own but they were ganging up on her. Connor frowned, Achilles had taught him to never hit a woman and that a woman would always appreciate a helping hand in times of trouble. "Just don't go being a damn hero, Connor." Achilles had said when he came home from the park with a split lip because he decided to beat up some bullies that had taken a girl's Barbie doll.

Connor dropped his backpack and stuck his phone in the front pocket of his pack before walking up to the two thugs. "Hey!" he shouted, drawing their attention.

"Connor? What are you doing here?" Aveline asked. Connor squared his shoulders, wishing his growth spurt would hit soon so he would stop looking like the ungainly cross between a boy and a man.

"You leave her alone," Connor said.

"Idiot! Get out of here! I have everything under control!" Aveline shouted, while the thugs snickered to themselves. "Go Connor, you can't win!"

In the Asian kung fu movies he'd watched at Achilles, the hero would say something heart wrenching like 'I know' or 'it doesn't matter', and he always fantasized that if he ever got in such a situation he'd say something equally suave and heart wrenching before he proceeded to get the crap beat out of him. Instead he said, "Yes, I am."

The thugs roared with laughter. "I'll take care of the kid," the taller and more muscular of the two said before letting go of Aveline and stalking towards Connor. He cracked his knuckles. "Today is your unlucky day kid," the punk sneered.

Connor swallowed but squared his shoulders and dropped into a fighting crouch. He'd grabbled with the other boys in his tribe before, and he did wrestling in middle school. He knew how to fight, but all his fights had been more or less supervised by adults that always broke them up before they got too hurt.

This was a street brawl, with no rules. Then again, the in Asian kung fu movies he'd seen, such fights were always when the hero tapped into the hidden power he had or finally figured out how to use ancient magic. Connor wasn't expecting to be able to shoot energy balls out of his fingertips but maybe he might be able to tap into some inner strength.

The punk threw the first punch, which Connor dodged easily enough. He was smaller and faster than the other guy, but in a fight like this it came down to experience, which he didn't have. The other guy jabbed at him again; Connor wove to dodge the blows, and aimed a strike at the man's knee. He missed and his opponent's shin connected with his cheek. He grunted as he staggered backward.

Connor tried attack the punk a few more times and getting hit each time. _C'mon, think! What would those old kung fu masters say?_ Connor thought, trying to think of all the kung fu movies he watched. The only thing he could think of was that the masters always said to use the opponent's strength against them. "What? Giving up?" the thug said when he noticed Connor's frown.

Connor hopped a few steps back and got into a low crouch. "No, just thinking about… how much of a girl you look," he said. He frowned, the taunted sounded more… insulting in Mohawk. The thug laughed, but didn't come charging at him. Connor sniffed, wiping at the blood from his nose. He needed this guy to charge at him. He took a gamble and shouted the most insulting thing he could think of to the guy.

"What didja just say?" the man asked, clearly not understanding a word Connor said.

"What? Are you deaf? Can't understand what I said?" Connor said, repeating the Mohawk phrase again.

"Just shut up you little puissant! I don't got a damn clue whatcha saying but I don't like it!" the man shouted.

"Make me stop then," Connor said, before calling the man an idiot in Mohawk. The thug snorted like a bull before charging at him. Connor opened his arms wide and planted his feet firmly against the ground, getting his butt as low to the ground as possible.

The force was rather jarring, especially because before Connor had time to recover from the impact the thug's fists began to collide with his sides. Yet, Connor held on, grabbing the waistband of the man's pants and pressed his knee against the man's leg, causing him to be slightly off balance. Connor shifted his shoulder into the man's chest and tossed him onto the ground.

Connor jumped on his down opponent and began to punch him in the face before his opponent bucked him off. He gasped, as he landed flat on his back, a groan escaping his lips a second later when a kick landed against his side. He rolled onto his stomach, grabbed a fist full of the fine dust that covered the ground and tossed it at his opponent.

Connor could imagine the kung fu masters frowning at him for the dirty trick, but it was a street fight, which means no rules and cheap shots were allowed. His opponent cried out and Connor attacked with a fury of quick jabs to the man's stomach. He delivered one final blow to the man's jaw which sent him staggering back before Connor tripped him by pulling his foot out from under him. The thug went down with a heavy thump.

Connor rested his hands on his knees gasping for breath, the skin on his knuckles torn, his sides bruised and he had some small cuts on his face that were bleeding. He tasted blood in his mouth, realizing he must've cut his the inside of his lip on his teeth. He grunted when someone tossed his backpack into his arms. "C'mon!" Aveline said, grabbing his hand. "Let's get outta here."

"You're okay!" Connor stated in surprised.

"Of course I am, I'm almost a black belt in karate, now let's go before there's trouble," she said.

"But it was in self-defense. I let him hit me first and Haytham said that I'm not guilty if I let him hit me first and I hit back to defend myself," Connor said. "Besides, he's a lawyer."

"Better not to use your fancy lawyer dad to get your ass out of jail," Aveline said. "Besides it's not the cops I'm worried about."

"Huh?" Connor asked as Aveline lead him through the maze. "What are you talking about?"

"These guys were just small fish, I don't want to be around here when the big fish arrives," she said and pulled out her keys, it was then Connor noticed that there was a beat up car waiting on the docks.

"You can drive?" Connor asked, kind of in awe of the fact.

"I'm seventeen, of course I can!" Aveline said and pressed a button on the key fob. The car beeped twice. Aveline let him go, heading towards the driver's side. "Get in, doofus!" she shouted at him. Connor blinked before getting into the car. He barely managed to get his seatbelt on before the car went squealing down the docks and away from the scene of the fight.

* * *

 

"Are you bloody crazy or just too stupid to know better?" Aveline shouted at him as they sat in the empty section of a mall's parking garage. She dabbed gently at the cuts on his face. "You're lucky they don't need stitches, I don't know what I'd do then."

"At least I won," Connor said, muttered a soft ow as she pressed a little too hard. "Do you trust me now?" he asked.

"You did that because I didn't trust you?" she snapped.

"No," he admitted, "I did it because you needed help."

"I told you I was fine! Jeez, you should listen to a girl more often, Connor. We don't always need saving."

"Achilles said that a girl appreciates a helping hand from a man," Connor muttered.

"Yes, when it doesn't involved the man being the big damn hero, like you did," Aveline said, though her words didn't sound so harsh as before. "I should thank you; I was able to deal with the other guy while you distracted his buddy." Aveline shifted close and in the process, her left boob brushed against his arm. Connor swallowed mouth suddenly dry as the proximity between them was suddenly realized. "There," she said, "that takes care of your face, now your knuckles." She took his hands. "I was right, your hands are big."

"They aren't that big!" Connor protested, head shooting up. Their nosed touched for a second, causing them both to freeze. Connor pulled away first, blushing nervously. Aveline giggled nervously.

"It's not a bad thing," Aveline said. "You're still just a puppy; you'll grow into your paws." A coy expression appeared on her face, though it was completely lost on Connor. "You know what they say: big hands, big feet…" she trailed off coyly.

"Huh?" he said stupidly, the shattered the moment like a glaringly off-key note. Aveline flushed, embarrassed as she began to bandage Connor's hands.  
"Never mind," she mumbled. Once she was finished doctoring him, she turned her car on. "I better get you home, I'm sure your father is worried, probably has a bald spot by now from yanking his hair out. Tomorrow, you can help me with my problem and I'll help you with yours, oak?"

"Uh… okay, cool. By the way what time is it?" Connor asked. Aveline pointed to glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Connor glanced at it. His eyes grew wide when he saw the time. "Nearly seven! Holy crap, Haytham is gonna kill me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft 
> 
> And that’s how Aveline and Connor became friends. He did exactly as Achilles told him not to do, go and be a big damn hero because of some girl.  
> Aveline, dear, sexual innuendo is lost on the boy, give him some time. As for the bear analogy earlier, have you ever watched those bear documentaries and the young bears about two years old always seem to be so thin and lanky looking but a bear that’s like four years old is all burly and muscly? That’s what Aveline means Connor is like a bear. He looks lanky and weak, but despite his appearance, he can be rather strong and grow into his strength.  
> I was originally gonna have Lee be more of a racist dick-face, but then I got stuck with Haytham and Connor interaction. I can’t remember if Lee ever openly said anything racist towards the Natives in game around Haytham (maybe when Connor was in jail), but nearly every fanfic that has Connor, Haytham and Lee around each other has Lee saying something racist, Connor protesting it and Haytham pretending both of them didn’t say anything mean. So, I had to work around that and figured that Lee has two sides: the nice stand up lawyer he presents to society and the dick-face he normally his (that only Braddock sees). Do symbolize the difference, he’s Charles when he’s the stand-up guy and Lee when he’s the dick-face. Hope that’s not too confusing. Connor still doesn’t like him.  
> Haytham’s reaction tomorrow! Jenny to come… uhm… yeah…. I had a vague plan when I started this, but now… I don’t. The story completely ran away from me and I’m like “Wait story! Come back! I don’t know how to finish you!” but I have a three day weekend, which means night time AC3 playing! Yay! I head canon that Haytham's middle name is Edward and I hate writing fight scenes.  
> I also noticed something replaying one of the early Haytham missions; Haytham didn’t like Lee when they first met! He wouldn’t let Lee shake his hand! He was like “Omg! Who are you? You overly excitable fanboy. I’m going to vaguely say prove your worth and I’ll let you into my secret fraternity, but I don’t like you.” So, my feelings are this: Haytham can’t really stand Lee but he’s much too classy and British to say or act otherwise so he just tolerates the man.  
> Also, how the HELL does Haytham not lose his tricorner hat when you do a Leap of Faith? If you watch closely, when he jumps out of the hay carte, he puts his hand on his hat so he doesn’t lose it. :3  
> Every time you don’t review baby Templars kill animals and my soul. Think of Connor, my soul and those baby animals.  
> Save an author; leave a review!


	14. Once Upon a Time

Haytham sat on his couch, staring at the clock on the entertainment cabinet, the colon flashed the seconds, while the digital numbers displayed the time, which currently read 10:15 pm. Connor still wasn't home yet. He hadn't called or texted or sent any form of communiqué to let Haytham know he was alright. Haytham would give Connor a good tanning when he got home.

Haytham rubbed his face, feeling the rough stubble of his jaw. What had he been thinking sending his fourteen-year-old to the docks? If Ziio found out, she'd be furious and probably never let him see Connor again. Haytham sighed as he rubbed his hands along his jeans. The fabric felt abnormally rough against his clammy palms. He stood up and began to pace the hallway, the smells of the apartment oddly over powering. The old paint, the dinner of roast chicken he made, and the garbage beneath the sink. Every sound from the street outside the apartment, though muted, jarred Haytham's already frayed nerves.

It was baffling! Connor was good about being back at the office by 4:45 pm. "Maybe this is his rebellious stage," Haytham muttered. It could very well be or Connor could be acting out because Haytham had gone back to work as usual once returning to Boston without putting any effort into looking for the men that tried to kill him and his mother. "That's absurd, he wouldn't… do that?' Haytham muttered. Then again, this was Connor and the boy was known for putting a thorn in his side. He had been doing his best in trying to find the men, but there was only so much snooping he could do from a legal standpoint. He need warrants and other legal documents to compel information out of people.

Haytham sighed, running a hand through his loose hair. His bangs fell into his eyes and it gave him a deranged murderer look. He was about to call again when he heard… laughter. He recognized Connor's laugh, and Haytham wondered if his son found his fear amusing. Haytham stopped and stared at the door when he heard the sound of a key scraping its way into the lock.

"…and I told you to go left and you said right and I said right and you went right, and I shouted no left!" Connor said, mirth in his tone. A female's voice laughed; the sound of delighted clapping followed.

"Yeah, you were like: No! I meant right as in correct! I could hear your mom laughing on speaker phone," the girl said. Haytham's eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the sight of his son, which only added to his deranged murderer appearance. Haytham's expression brought the two teenagers up short.

Connor had clearly been in a fight. He had a bruise over his right eye and one of his left cheek, some cuts though nothing too deep and one side of his lip was swollen. He also had wounds on his knuckles. He was smiling and laughing with this girl, who Haytham belatedly recognized, was Aveline. Haytham decided then and there that he should consider buying a one-way ticket for Connor back to Eagle's Point. "Where the bloody hell have you been Connor! I've been worried sick about you!" Haytham shouted, jerking their attention to him. They both deflated like popped balloons and the silence settled in around them like a wet blanket.

Connor shrunk in on himself and glanced at Aveline. "I… I had better go," Aveline said before pressing something into Connor's hand. "My number… call me." She gave Haytham a little hesitant wave before leaving. Connor watched her go waving at her and mouthing "bye". Aveline shut the door.

Haytham stared at his son. So many thing tumbled through his mind, but he felt a profound sense of relief. "Where have you been?" Haytham asked again, as he walked up to his son. He pulled Connor into the light and studied his face. "I'm still waiting for you to explain yourself," Haytham added, letting the boy go.

"I went to the docks like you told me too. I ran into Aveline, who was being bothered by these two guys, so I helped her out. Beat one up pretty good too, Dad,"

"You did what?" Haytham shouted, he rubbed his face as he remembered how he and Ziio first met. "Connor, I told you not to get into fight with those people!"

"Dad, it's fine, he was a piece of cake. Anyway, after that, Aveline patched me up, and we decided to head home, but changed our minds and got something to eat. Then we hit traffic and got lost. Then Ista called around nine-thirty hysterical and once I explained everything she gave us directions to your place," Connor said.

"You should have called! The only reason your mother called was because I called her!" Haytham said. "I'm getting you a bus ticket and sending you back to Eagle's Point, clearly being in Boston by yourself is too much for you to handle."

"What, no! You can't do that!" Connor shouted. "Maybe if you got off your lazy ass and helped me look, we could find them faster!"

"You do not take that tone with me young man, and I am. I'm your father; my first priority is to keep you safe."

"Haytham," Connor said, his voice low, "Eagle's Point isn't safe."

Haytham stared at Connor, in the distance he could hear Mrs. Weathersbee in the hall calling for Mittens. "What do you mean? Of course Eagle's Point is safe!"

"No, it isn't!" Connor insisted. "Ista told me Grandpa Edward saw some guy skulking around there yesterday as if he was looking for somebody, like a scout."

Haytham's blood ran cold. He jerked out of his thoughts when there was a knock on the door. "Haytham? Haytham? Have you seen Mittens? Haytham?" the reedy voice of Mrs. Weathersbee said.

"No, Mrs. Weathersbee, I haven't! Good night!" Haytham shouted. He didn't catch what the old woman said but he heard her shuffle off down the hall, bellowing for her cat. "Now," Haytham said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You—"

"Braddock," Connor said.

"Pardon?"

"Ista swears it was Braddock that sent those guys."

"How can she be sure?"

"Because Braddock wants her dead. She saw Braddock murder someone. That's why she came to you in the first place! You were supposed to protect her!" Connor shouted, anger flashing in his eyes and his hands clenching into fists.

"I'm a lawyer, not a cop," Haytham said.

"She went to the cops! But the cop that took her report was in Braddock's pockets! That's why she came to you! She thought you'd help! But all you've done is gone to the office and send me out to look for stuff! You have done nothing!" Connor shouted.

"I don't do nothing, Connor! I do research! I'm trying to find something in Braddock's record that I can get him arrested on. Even if it's just temporary. I need time," Haytham said, closing the gap between him and his son. He placed his hands on Connor's shoulders. "And I need evidence. I can't just have the cops arrest Braddock on your mother's word."

"So, what? I'm just suppose to wander around Boston in the afternoons, and hope I find something without Braddock's goons catching me? I got beat up because I went to the docks today! On your say so!" Connor shouted. "Ista and Grandpa Edward are up there with weirdos walking around Eagle's Point you sit behind your fancy computer all day doing research! What if they go after Grandpa Edward, too!"

"Connor," Haytham began.

"No! I hate you! You're a shitty dad!" Connor said and yanked the door open, storming out into the hall.

* * *

 

Connor didn't go far. Once he was outside he sat down on the top step of the stairs and watched the traffic go by. He pulled out his phone and entered Aveline's number into it. He tapped the keys before hitting send, before tucking his phone into his pocket. He rested his head against the railing, frowning as a car went speeding down the road. A cheery _ping_ sounded and Connor pulled out his phone. He smiled as he read Aveline's text, before sending her another one. Again, he only had a wait a minute or two before his phone went off.

 _Sorry you got into a fight with your dad_ , the message read.

 _That's okay. We always get into fights. I barely know him. Don't really consider him my dad_ , Connor typed back before pressing send. He sighed, the smells of the city were annoying, concrete and gasoline, with garbage and other chemical smells. He missed the smells of his home, the reservation and Eagle's Point: Open, fresh and clean. Another _ping_ sounded.

 _At least you have your dad. My mom's dead. I'm never getting her back. You should be grateful. Maybe get to know him better_ , Aveline said.

 _Why? He's probably just gonna leave once this all over. He says he wants to be a father but he never bothered to come find me once!_ Connor shot back. He pressed send and his frown deepened. What did Aveline know anyway? She had her father. He wasn't going anywhere any time soon, not like his. Haytham could literally send him back to Eagle's Point and never contact him or his mother again. "Bastard," Connor muttered. He looked at his phone when he heard a ping.

 _How could he look for you if he didn't know of you, Connor? You have your dad in your life now, I'd give anything to have my mom back. Don't be so stubborn that you push him away. You may regret it._ Aveline said. Connor scowled at her message. How dare she tell him he may regret his actions.

 _You don't know that! I had a pretty good life without him, so far!_ Connor snapped back, hitting send furiously. "Girls are stupid," he grumbled, and rubbed his hands together and blew on them to keep the chill from his fingers. When he heard his phone, he almost didn't want to look at it. He did, sighing as he read Aveline's message.

 _Really? If he died tomorrow, would you want him back? Or would you continue to have a pretty good life?_ Aveline said. Connor was seriously tempted to throw his phone into the street and was about to when the door to the apartment complex opened.

"There you are," Haytham said. "What are you doing out here?"

"Getting away from you," Connor grumbled as his father sat down with a sigh. "What do you want?"

"You called me dad," Haytham said. Connor stared at his father. "I mean… Connor, look, I—"

"If you're gonna give me more lame excuses I don't want to hear them," Connor said and was about to get up when Haytham grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back down. He heard the ping of his phone.

"Just listen!" Haytham hissed. "Dear god boy! Listening would solve half your problems. Now, as I was saying, I had been thinking about what you said, and… you're right. I have gotten absorbed into my work," Haytham admitted.

Connor snorted. "No shit," he grumbled with an eye roll. Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose but didn't reprimand him for his foul language.

"It was another straw your mother had against our relationship," Haytham muttered, more to himself than Connor. "But that's beside the point."

"What is the point?" Connor asked.

"The point is this, from now on I'm going to come with you and we'll find these men together and solve this problem together."

"Together?" Connor arched a brow, and then scowled. "No." He didn't want his father coming with him when he wandered Boston. He wanted to wander around Boston with Aveline, even if she annoyingly pointed out the things that were bothering him with blunt accuracy.

"What? I thought you'd be happy?" Haytham asked, flabbergasted. "Anyway it's not negotiable."

"Why can't I have a say in this?" Connor asked.

"Because I'm your father," Haytham said, "and I said so." Connor's scowl deepened and he wiggled down into his coat. "Connor?" Haytham asked, looking over at his son. Connor mumbled something. "Connor, speak up I can't hear you when you talk like that?"

"I said fine! I'll be in in a minute," Connor grumbled.

"Good," Haytham stood up. "I'll see you inside," he said and entered the building. Connor snorted and pulled out his phone.

 _We can't wander around Boston anymore, my dad wants to help look too._ Connor hit send, feeling wronged by the sudden turn of events. Aveline's reply was fast.

 _That's fine. I think it might be better if I went solo. We can still hang out. Wanna hang out the mall, Saturday?_ She asked.

Connor's eyes grew wide, having forgotten that they could hang out, like normal teenagers did. _Yes! Of course!_ Connor said, tapping send, only to realize that she may get the wrong impression of him. _As friends of course. Just friends._ He hit send again, hoping she didn't think he was weird. Her reply took only a few seconds to reach him.

 _Lol! Of course as friends, Connor. G'night!_ Aveline's message read. Connor felt his cheeks get warm and the chilly autumn night wasn't so cold anymore. He stood up and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft 
> 
> And… short chapter! Kinda needed. Chapter 15 will be up Tuesday! To tide you over, watch out for drabbles, especially for this Sunday! There will be a special Connor/Aveline oneshot! Connor finally figures out what to do with those damn hormones of his!
> 
> I bet Liberations, yes, I know Jeanne is alive, but in this story she's dead.
> 
> Haytham is getting in on the action! I forgot I made a note to myself that he and Connor do snoop together. Lol.
> 
> Thanks MohawkWoman for being a sounding board for ideas when I'm in a bind!
> 
> Every time you don't review Templars kill baby animals and a bit of my soul. Think of Connor, those cute baby animals and my soul.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	15. Venomous Beauty

Connor hated Froot Loops, but having eaten all the other cereal in Haytham's apartment (granted there wasn't a whole lot to begin with), Connor was forced to dine this Saturday morning on Froot Loops. He snorted in amusement at the carton he was watching and heard his father sigh wearily. "What's the matter?" he asked, shifting to look at Haytham.

"Your mother and grandfather will be here tomorrow," Haytham said.

"Oh, uh… where are they gonna sleep? I'm kinda too old to share a bed with my mom," Connor pointed out before slurping a spoonful of the horrid cereal.

"I haven't figured that out yet… maybe I'll buy an air mattress…" Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned as he picked up his cup of tea. There was an explosion from the cartoon on the TV.

"Why doesn't' she just sleep in your bed?" Connor asked. "Y'know… with you." Connor watched his father's eyes bulged and tea leaked out from his lips as he snorted and swallowed the gulp at the same time. Connor grinned in amusement as his father hacked tea out of his windpipe.

"I can't… Connor, no… I won't do that to your mother," Haytham said, rubbing his throat. The boy shrugged, continuing to eat his cereal. "Besides you and I are going to look into the Braddock situation today. Your friend Aveline said something about a Rafael person," Haytham said.

"Yeah? Where are we going to start? The docks?" Connor asked.

"No, a club. If Aveline's mysterious fake ID thing is indeed tied to Braddock, then a club is a more likely starting place."

"I'm fourteen, you have to be eighteen just to get in. Some won't allow you unless you're twenty-one."

"I'm well aware of you age," Haytham said and took another sip of tea. "You are going to wait in the car and watch the people that come and go, report anyone that looks shifty."

Connor frowned, even though he knew there was really no logical way he could get into the club. "I could sneak into the back," Connor suggested, half-heartedly.

"No, you will not put your life needlessly at risk!" Haytham said. Connor rolled his eyes with a groan.

"But you can?" Connor asked, turning the TV off and setting his bowl on the table. He turned around and slung his arms over the couch to better look at his father.

"I'm your father," Haytham said sternly, though his expression softened, "it's my job too."

"Hmmm," Connor huffed, looking at the ceiling. "Aveline and I are going to the mall; you can meet me there, okay?"

"Yes, I thought that was the plan?"

"Just making sure you didn't forget, old man."

Haytham scoffed. "I'm hardly old Connor, forty-six is barely pass middle age!"

"Uh-huh," Connor said, he turned around, grabbed his cereal bowl, and drained the rest of his milk. "Gotta get changed," Connor said as he stood up.

"This isn't a date, is it?" Haytham asked, eyes glued to his paper. Connor froze in mid-step. "Connor?"

"No," Connor finally said, looking at his father. "We're just gonna hang out as friends." Why was he blushing? There was no reason to blush. He liked Aveline, not like that, but as a friend, yes as a friend, there was nothing wrong with that. Friends were safer and didn't involve confusing feelings that he frankly didn't want to deal with.

"Just wondering," Haytham said, going back to his paper. Connor stared at his father for several long moments before heading to his room to change.

* * *

 

Connor never thought there could be so many people in one place. "Wow," he muttered, causing Aveline to look at him with something akin to concern. The voices of the crowd echoed off the walls of the mall.

"Never been to a mall before?" Aveline asked. Connor shook his head, feeling deafened by the noise. So many people, an everything was so bright.

"I have… just been a while and the mall near my house is a lot smaller," he said.

"Gotcha, well c'mon. What do you want to do?" Aveline asked, as they began to head towards the massive sea of humanity. Connor swallowed, he'd really just like to walk around with her listening to her talk. He liked it when she laughed; it caused her to smile, and when she smiled her entire face lit up with her joy.

"Connor, woohoo!" he started when Aveline's hand passed before his eyes. He didn't realize he stopped walking. "I was worried nobody was home in there."

"The arcade," he finally said, "I have some quarters, and we can play games at the arcade. I-If that's alright with you."

"Sure, I like playing games," Aveline said and resumed their plunge into the sea of humanity. Connor swallowed before following her, trying to not to make faces as people jostled and bumped into him. He didn't like crowds that much. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Aveline grasped his hand, and began to tug him along. His entire perception of reality narrowed to her hand, which was slim and arm yet with a sure and firm grip. He squeezed her hand, a smile on his lips.

They reached the dark room of the arcade, flashing lights on the machines and the sounds of various games sounding off in its dimly lit confines. Connor looked around, trying to find a pinball machine. He found one and practically sprinted over to it. "Pinball?" Aveline asked as Connor shoved two quarters into the coin slot. The machine whirled to life and Connor heard the _thunk_ of the ball in the launcher.

"Yeah." He pulled back the launcher and sent the ball rocketing out. "We have a pinball machine on the reservation, my cousin and I would play it all the time," Connor said, tapping the left button to smack the ball back up. It felt good playing pinball again, the familiar sounds of the peddles and the pins as the ball hit them reminded him of his life before all this happened. He got so caught up in the game that he forgot Aveline was beside him.

"Wow, you're really good at this," she said. "I think you beat the high score."

"Uh-huh?" He wasn't paying attention to her. This was the last ball for this round of quarters and it had lost it's momentum and was now sitting in the well of the up turned peddle. He stuck his tongue out as he concentrated, letting the ball roll down slightly, and he smacked the button, the ball bounced and rattled down the hole. "Damn it," Connor swore. "I almost had it!" he muttered, fishing for more quarters, as the machine spat out a long ribbon of tickets, which Aveline collected. "Do you want a go?" Connor asked, rubbing the two quarters between his fingers.

"Sure." Aveline handed him his tickets and inserted her own quarters. She was good, but clearly hadn't spent long hours in a poorly ventilated pizza shop during the middle of summer or stuck in the pizza shop because of the rain and you weren't allowed to go out into the woods because there were reports of wolves and pumas so all you had to do was play pinball. "Damn, I lost," Aveline muttered, pouting.

"That's okay, my cousin Kanen'to:kon isn't really good either. I always beat him."

"What was it like? Growing up on the reservation?"

Connor chuckled as he folded his tickets. "I didn't. My mom and I lived near it, but not on it. We would visit for the summer, mostly just a month, but it was fun… I guess. Got to do a lot of camping and fishing. During the fall, when I was older I got to hunt," Connor said, drifting aimlessly through the arcade. Telling Aveline about his childhood seemed more interesting than playing the game.

"Did you do powwows and traditional dances?" Aveline asked.

"Yea, I hated doing it as a kid, but I learned to enjoy them once I got older and understood the importance of preserving my heritage. My mom said I'd run and hide when I was younger whenever she pulled out my powwow outfit," he said with a smile, happy to have Aveline in his heritage.

"What was the worst thing you've ever done?" Aveline asked.

"Not counting sneaking away to Boston on the back floor of my dad's car?" Connor asked with a grin. "Hmm… let's see… terrorizing this one guy my mom was dating, would have to be it."

* * *

 

_Three years earlier, Mohawk Reservation_

Connor did not like this at all. He didn't understand why this guy had to come with them. He was from the city and clearly was allergic to nature. He had sprayed himself so heavily with mosquito repellant that he stank like that stuff, and he kept complaining how there was no cell phone service out here and that it was sticky hot and hooking worms was gross and oh my god how can you stand all the bugs!

" _Dude, why is your mom dating a loser like him?_ " Kanen'to:kon asked, he wasn't speaking terribly loud but he spoke in Mohawk just in case the city-slicker overheard.

" _Beats me. She claims he's a nice guy, though,_ " Connor said. " _But he hates kids. So… I don't know._ "

" _But… there's you Ratonhnhaké:ton,_ " Kanen'to:kon pointed out as he cast his line back into the slow moving river. Connor heard an eagle cry, he glanced up to the sky trying to find it. The loser his mom was dating yelped about something and a can of bug spread came out of nowhere and started spraying in all directions.

" _I know, but Mom is Mom_ ," Connor said, casting his line. " _Sometimes I wish she and my real dad were still together._ "

" _Why? Isn't he supposed to be a criminal or something? A real asshole?_ "

" _Major asshole,_ " Connor corrected, " _at least that's what Mom says. I don't ask much. Got in trouble the couple of times I did._ "

" _Do you know who he is at least?_ "

" _Yeah, some guy named Haytham Kenway; apparently he's a lawyer in Boston._ "

" _Wow… that's cool… uuh… I guess_ ," Kanen'to:kon said with a little shrug. " _Wonder why the fish aren't biting today._ "

Connor made a face, watching the city-slicker fumble around by the river bank. He couldn't understand why his mother would date such and idiot. " _Do you want to help me with something Kanen'to:kon?_ "

" _Sure, with what?_ "

" _Let's give that guy something to really scream about,_ " Connor said with a grin.

" _Like what? Lure a puma to him?_ " Kanen'to:kon asked.

Connor chuckled. " _Not a bad idea, but I was thinking of pushing him into the river._ "

" _Your mom won't be pleased._ "

" _No, she'll find it hilarious and thank me for it later!_ " Connor said, a wide grin on his face. He reeled in his line before setting the fishing pole on the rocks. " _Lure him to the deepest part of the river; I'll jump him from the trees._ " Connor said as he kicked off his shoes and socks.

" _I don't think this is the best idea Ratonhnhaké:ton, just saying…_ " Kanen'to:kon said as he reeled in his line, and set the pole beside Connor's. Connor snorted as he shoved his socks into his shoes before he slipped into the forest. He scaled a tree and nimbly jumped from branch to branch with practiced ease. The dappled light coming through the leaves hid him from view, and he felt more at home in the branches than he had ever been on the ground. His mother told im he was a monkey in a past life.

"I don't understand why we have to do this Diio," the man said.

"Ziio," his mother corrected. Connor snorted, the man had been dating his mother for three weeks and couldn't (or rather _wouldn't_ ) get her name right. "My son likes to fish," Ziio said. Connor watched as Kanen'to:kon came up to the man.

"The fish are really biting over there, mister!" he said, pointing to the deepest part of the lethargically moving river. The man huffed.

"There are no fish here," he protested.

"Just go with him," Ziio said, "I'll stay here."

"Fine, but Diio—"

"Ziio."

"Maybe next weekend we can go see a movie, just the two of us," he said.

Connor frowned. _There won't be a next weekend if this works out. I don't like you, you aren't good enough for my mother!_ Connor thought as he followed the man through the branches, squirrels chattering at him from higher, thinner branches. He waited until he was in position before dropping down to the branch, swung and flying tackled the man. They went flying into the river. Connor surfaced quickly, giving a war whoop in triumph.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" his mother shouted. Connor looked at her, a wide grin on his face, the sputtering city-slicker dog paddling towards shore. Connor didn't' care if he was in trouble, seeing the look of shock horror on this man's face as he came flying out of the tree was enough.

* * *

 

_Boston, Massachusetts_ _—_ _Present day_

"So your mother dated after me, huh," Haytham said as they dove to the club. He had come to the mall, meeting up the Connor and Aveline.

"Yeah, though they never worked out… save for this one guy, he was from the tribe, but ended up joining the Army," Connor said, watching the neon lights zoom by.

"Do you think… she was still in love with me?" Haytham asked, sounding a bit nervous. Connor glanced at his father.

"I guess. Sometimes I thought she only dated in order for me to have some sort of father figure in my life," Connor said with a shrug. "I mean, Ista always broke it off or I'd scare the guy away. I caught her crying once," Connor glanced at his father quickly and licked his lips. "She whispered your name."

"Oh…" Haytham flexed his grip on the steering wheel, the leather creaking.

"She had this old picture, I never saw of what, but she'd sit on her bed and crying, staring at it when she thought I wasn't paying attention."

"We took a lot of pictures of our more… involved dates. We took a trip to Yellowstone in July of 01," Haytham said.

"Yeah, oh look, isn't that the club?" Connor pointed to the brightly lit building, glad for a subject change.

"It is, now remember, stay here and call me only if you see someone suspicious! I'm going to go in," Haytham said as he parked the ar. Connor pulled the hood of his hoodie up.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'll be good," Connor said. Haytham snorted as he got out of the cock, locking it.

* * *

 

Haytham felt out of place inside the club, with young bodies pressing up against each other, moving to the synthesized beat that threatened to split Haytham's skull asunder. Haytham pushed his way to the bar. He sat down next to some man, and told the bar tender he'd like a glass of water.

"Crazy!" the man next to him shouted.

"What?" Haytham shouted back.

"I said, crazy!"

"Oh… yes! Of course, it is crazy!" Haytham agreed, accepting his water. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here on business," the man said. "Rafael." He held out his hand.

"Charles," Haytham said, giving the stranger the first name that popped into his head. Rafael nodded, sipped his beer. Haytham watched the crowd dance, two young women were dancing sensually close to each other. One opened her mouth, tongue hanging out, and her partner placed something on her tongue. She grinned before kissing her dance partner. Haytham frowned, wondering where their parents were.

"What brings you here?" Rafael asked. Haytham shrugged.

"I'm here because of my boss," Haytham said, thinking up of the quickest story he could. "I'm an investigative reporter and my boss set this fake ID scandal on my desk. Word on the street is, that they all lead back here."

"Does it now?" Rafael said, sipping his beer. "Wonder what little birdie told you that."

"Beats me, my boss told me that, so that's why I'm here," Haytham said, sipping his water. "You wouldn't be incline to helping me? You'll be anonymous in my article."

"Why would I help you?" Rafael asked.

"I can tie the cops up if I release details that only they now," Haytham said. "Free you up, so you can work without the cops breathing down your neck."

"Tempting offer," Rafael said, "I'll have to talk it over with the boss."

"Who's your boss?" Haytham asked, and took a sip of water, since all this shouting was making his throat hurt.

"That man over there," Rafael pointed, Haytham glanced at the man. "He owns this club."

"I see," Haytham said, noting that the man was indeed Braddock. "Excuse me, I have to take a piss." He drained his glass, and left it on the counter before making his way through the crowd, then doubling back and slipping through the exit.

Haytham resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as he made his way to the car. He opened it and started the engine. "See anything?" Connor asked.

"Yes, Braddock, and one of his goons, Rafael," Haytham said as he pulled into traffic.

"And? What are we gonna do now?"

"Now, we are going to go home and look up this establishment. Did you notice anything?"

"Yeah, Thèrés, I snapped her picture and sent it to Aveline, who confirmed it."

"She's what fifteen?" Haytham asked.

"I think so," Connor said. "She needs a fake ID to get in."

"I think we may have found are way in getting Braddock off the streets. I saw two young women in there, and one put something in the other's mouth. It could be drugs, if he's selling drugs to minors that's a major offense."

"But how do we prove it?"

"We'll cross that bridge when it needs crossing," Haytham said. "For now, we hang back and see if I can't dig up anything. You might want to ask Aveline if you two can't hang out where these kids go after school?"

"You're letting me go out by myself? After what happened last time? Amazing," Connor said sarcastically.

"That's not funny, son," Haytham said.

"Or you can stay in the car and I can talk to the kids with Aveline," Connor said.

"Very well, that sounds fair," Haytham said. "We'll do that."

"Glad we have a game plan now," Connor said. "Let's go home, we can have pudding."

* * *

 

They walked up the stairs to Haytham's third floor apartment, and were met by Mrs. Weathersbee. "Oh, Haytham! This man claiming to be your father came with a woman, I fetched the landlady and she let them in. I hope you don't mind."

"Did they give you their names?"

"The man said his name was Kennyway…. Kennethiway?" Mrs. Weathersbee said and her eyes fell on Connor. "Have you seen Mittens, young man?"

"Uuuh," Connor looked at his father and the door opened. "Ista!" Connor shouted recognizing his mother and ran into her arms.

"Ziio," Haytham said and made a polite farewell to Mrs. Weathersbee before shoving Ziio and Connor back into the apartment. "Hi, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow!"

"Yeah, we got here sooner than expected," Ziio said and gave her son another hug, stroking his hair. "Go help your grandfather, Ratonhnhaké:ton, your father and I need to talk." Ziio said and gave her son a little shove before looking at Haytham. She headed to the door, beckoning Haytham to follow.

He stepped outside into the hall and, with his hand still on the door handle was taken completely by surprise when Ziio kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> As promised, chapter 15!
> 
> Oooh boy! It is a cliffie! Muwhahahahahaha! I hope to have this story wrapped up in 5-10 more chapters. I'm itching to get a crack at my Templar!Connor AU that I have brewing in my brain, but I must finish this one first!
> 
> The plot is slowly condensing into the final product! I'm happy. You also may have noticed I changed my penname. Didn't like my old one.
> 
> As for Haytham's alias, "Charles" was the first name that popped into my head when I was writing it this morning. I don't know why.
> 
> Every time you don't review Charles Lee kills puppies and a bit of my soul. Think of the puppies, Connor and my soul. Also, don't make Charles Lee kill puppies, the man is rather fond of dogs. You don't want to do that to him do you? Do you?
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	16. She is My Sin

_Bless me, undress me! Pick your prey in a wicked way. God I confess… I do envy the sinners!_ _—_ _Nightwish_

* * *

 

Haytham wasn't expecting it. He wasn't expecting it at all. So, when Ziio pressed her lips against his he went numb with shock, he only regained his senses when her tongue shyly touched his lips in askance, and he hungrily opened his mouth, his own tongue darting out to meet her own.

He lost his grip on the door handle and stumbled backwards, breaking the spell momentarily. "Ziio," Haytham whispered, breathless. It had been so long since he kissed her. He wanted to kiss her again, yet he looked down the hall and he could've swore Mrs. Weathersbee's door slammed shut. "Not here," he said, forgetting to ask what she wanted to talk about or maybe the kiss was what she wanted to talk about.  
"Right," Ziio said, leaning in slightly and pecking his lips. She giggled, before slipping into the apartment, slim fingered hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging him along. He only just remembered to kick the door close with his foot. When he saw his father and son sitting on the couch he waved stupidly at them, stumbling along as Ziio marched determinedly to his bedroom.

"Well, lad, let's go take a walk," Edward said, getting up from the couch, the springs squeaking with the removal of his weight.

"Huh? Why? It's like almost midnight," Connor protested, as his grandfather hauled him his feet. Haytham didn't hear what happened afterwards, since Ziio had shoved him into the room and closed the door with a snap.

He was surprised how strong she was, or maybe her passion was fueling her strength, for she came crashing into him, lips hungrily seeking his out and he fell back onto his bed with a _whump_ all in one motion. "Ziio," he mumbled between kisses, hands slipping under her shirt to feel her soft skin. He found the scar on the left side of her back, an old childhood injury. She hissed, his lips between her teeth, when he touched her and her back arched beneath his hands.

"I want you," she purred, kissing him again, sucking on his tongue before shoving hers into his mouth. He moaned, the gently rocking of her hips arousing him. His jeans would soon become too restrictive. He couldn't let it go that far, it was too soon, had been too long. "I want you to make love me, Haytham Kenway," she whispered sensually, "like you'd die tomorrow." Her lips found his neck, kissing him then nipping and sucking. He moaned, pulling her closer to him.

"Ziio," he moaned, closing his eyes. "Ziio wait, we need— Aaah, gods Ziio." He bucked then, her hand finding its way between his legs.

"Stop talking Haytham, I want you," she said, giving him a good squeeze. Haytham bucked against her hand, trying to think or at least attempt something that was the semblance of thinking.

"Fuck it," he grumbled to himself, after a few moments, and cradled Ziio's neck and pulled her into the kiss. He should really stop fooling himself and just do what she wanted, for he wanted it too.

He slipped his free hand beneath her shirt, feeling her warm skin against his palm as his questing fingers found the clasp of her bra. He handed removed a bra onehanded in some time so it took a few tries, but he undid it in short order, his hand drawn like a magnet to her breast.

Hearing her erotic sigh, when he gave her breast a firm squeeze sent all his nerves on fire and the fact that he had a raging hard on and still in his cursed jeans wasn't helping. Haytham whimpered in protested when Ziio pulled away. "See,"' she said, "you want this as bad as I do." She pulled her shirt and bra off in one fluid motion and undid her braids with practice easy.

Haytham's throat went dry at the sight of her black locks cascading over her tan skin, covering enough of her breasts to be borderline modest yet leaving enough for his sex-deprived brain to run while. "Dear god woman," he croaked, wondering what he did to deserve such torture.

"You've been a bad boy Haytham Kenway," Ziio cooed, leaning forward and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, one by agonizing one. It didn't help that she rocked her hips against his erection, coaxing moans and sighs from his throat and all he could do was tangle his fingers into her hair and mutter stupid words of encouragement to her.

When she was finished with his shirt, she trailed her tongue from his naval up to his collarbone before ending with his lips. Her hands found their way into his hair; fingers teasing the hair-tie off until his brown and silver locks cascaded about his shoulders. She gave firm yank on his now loose hair. "Ziio," he mumbled hungrily, before kissing her again. He wanted to get out of those pants but Ziio was in control and it was best just to let her set the pace for this encounter.

"Shh, I know," she breathed tapping his lips. He wrapped his lips around her finger and sucked, she sighed lustfully, undoing the button on his pants with her free hand. He thought it was prudent if he worked on her pants, since she would need to be removed of those shortly.

He worked her jeans off just when she managed to undo the button. "I like those panties," he murmured, tracing the lacy band with his thumb. "Did I buy you those?" he asked, trying to force his sex-addled brain to remember if he ever bought her panties.

"You did," she replied cutely, kicking her jeans free before tugging his pants and underwear off in one go. He sighed, the pressure on his erection eased. Haytham bit his lip to hold in a groan when she ran her hand along his length, his eyes squeezed shut. He wanted to rip those cute lacy panties off her body and fuck her senseless until the morning light. "Beg Haytham," she purred, squeezing him; his hips bucked. "Tell me what you want."

He sighed. "Y-you, I want you," he moaned. Gods he wanted her. "I want you, Ziio, so fucking much."

"Hmmm, say my name," Ziio whispered. Haytham only then realized that she was thoroughly enjoying this.

"Ziio, your name is Ziio," he forced out, wondering how much longer she would do this to him. She leaned forward, breasts brushing his chest.

"No, it's not, say my name Haytham, my real name," she breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut, since even on the best days he had to take his time in saying her full name. Why couldn't he just rip those panties off her? His fingers twitched and she tweaked her hand slightly on his cock, forcing a moan from his mouth.

"Kane… Kaneith…" he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push his brain into forming the foreign words. "Kaneihtí:io," he said. "Your name is Kaneihtí:io, now let me ravish you, damn it woman!"

Ziio tossed her head back and laughed a rich throaty sound that sent his nerves on fire. He savagely attacked those panties, which kept him from his prize, tearing them off her. He only later realized that he physically did so. He guided her onto his cock, sighing in delight as her warm wet heat enveloped him. Fifteen years since they had sex, fifteen years and something spurred Ziio into suddenly attacking him with lustful desire.

She set the pace, a fast and furious pace that he was only too happy to oblige. He could hear his name, coming out from those perfect lips of her in short ragged gasps, breathy _Haytham… Haytham… Haytham…_

He mumbled her name as well, when his mouth wasn't preoccupied with sucking on those beautiful breasts of hers. He shivered whenever he thrust into her at the angle to get that cute little yip from her lips.

He could feel the knot in his gut tighten, he wouldn't last much longer. She came almost seconds after the thought graced his mind, her womanhood clenching around him. Her high pitch cry of climax was a strange mix of his name and Mohawk curses. He would've laughed, yet he came a few seconds after, shouting her name and mumbled curses.

She flopped onto his chest, snuggling against him, breath fanning out against his chest. "Haytham," she whispered.

"Shhh." He didn't want to talk right now, he just wanted to hold her and let the afterglow wash over him. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you too," he replied.

* * *

 

Connor frowned as he sat on the steps to the apartment building with his grandfather. "Why are we out here? It's cold," he grumbled, snuggling into his white and blue hoodie.

Edward said, "I haven't seen my favorite grandson in a while, I wanna catch up with ya."

"Uh-huh," Connor snorted, though when Edward slung an arm over his shoulders he scooted closer. He watched the traffic zip by on the street. "I'm you're only grandson."

"Thus your m'favorite, no competition," Edward laughed.

"Why are we really out here Grandpa?" Connor asked. He thought it was a little odd how his mother was dragging his father by the hand towards the bedroom and there wasn't even an argument brewing between them. Maybe there was, his mother did look emotional, though he couldn't place it.

"We're out here to give ya parents some alone time," Edward said.

"Alone time for what?" Connor asked, staring at his grandfather. "It's cold, I want to go back inside, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we went back in and watched TV on the couch."

Edward chuckled and slapped Connor's chest. "How old are ya, lad?"

"Uhm… fourteen, I'll be fifteen in the spring, why?" Connor asked, wondering what his age had to do with any of this.

"Has your mom given ya the talk yet?" Edward asked.

"What talk?"

"Do you know where babies come from?" Edward asked.

"A vagina? I had sex ed in school, Grandpa," Connor said, though he couldn't put the pieces together in this conversation.

"Then use your head boy!" Edward bopped him lightly on the head. "Ya know how babies are… brought about, so think on that for a moment an' the fact we're out here, while your mom an' dad are up there."

Connor pouted, rubbing his head, but it did the trick. He thought about it and slowly realization dawned on him. "Oh my god!" Connor cried and buried his face in his hands, hoping his grandfather didn't see him blush. He should have known better since Edward laughed. "Why did you put _that_ image in my brain, Grandpa!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> This chapter is short. For the full length please go to Sairenya_Swanfeather on AO3 where Hell and High Water is also posted or PM and I'll give you the link to the chapter on AO3. We'll get back to all the angst and drama tomorrow, I have to do my philosophy homework now. ^^
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	17. Heart Pumping Mud

The first rays of sunlight drifted through the curtains, pale and dim due to the overcast sky, yet potent. Haytham stirred, trudging through the fog of sleep as sensation returned to his limbs. He felt another body snuggled against his own and slowly he opened his eyes. Ziio curled herself up against him, pillowing her cheek on his chest; her breath fanning out across his bare skin. He smiled and ran his hand through her hair, pleased to have her in his arms.

It when hit him like a semi-truck; the events of last night. He sat up with a jolt, looking about the room. His and Ziio's clothes were thrown haphazardly across his bedroom, and his ex-girlfriend (did she still count as his ex after last night?) was waking beside him thanks to his sudden movement. "Haytham?" Ziio asked.

"I forgot condoms!" it was the most ungraceful first words said in the morning after sex he ever said. Ziio stared, blinked a few times before laughing. "This isn't funny, Ziio! What if… what if you're pregnant!" Haytham shouted, running a hand through his hair, wondering when it became loose.

"Relax, I've been on birth control since I had Ratonhnhaké:ton," Ziio said.

"Well… that's a relief," he muttered. He could barely handle the son he had, he didn't need another one; not yet, possibly never. "What happened?" he asked, the question sounding stupid. Ziio snorted as she sat up, pulling the blankets up around her chest.

"We had sex, what do you think happened?" Ziio asked.

"I know we had sex," Haytham sighed, rubbing his face. "What I mean is… why? We haven't been together since that charity ball and then I get home last night and you practically jump me!"

"Are you saying you didn't want it?" Ziio asked, arching her brow. A car blared it's horn somewhere on the street below, Boston was waking and Haytham was sitting naked in his bed trying to not botch things with Ziio for a second time.

"No," he sighed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to think clearly. "No, I'm happy, thrilled even, that we… had sex last night."

"Then what's the problem?" Ziio asked.

"Ziio… we were… we had separated fourteen years ago and… we were only just getting back to… understanding each other. I want… I don't want to mess this up again, I want to know if you want a relationship with me again," he said.

"I wouldn't have initiated last night if I didn't want a relationship with you, Haytham," Ziio said, cupping his fae to force him to look at her. "You know me; I'm not in the habit of doing things I'm not sure of."

"Where do we go from here, then?" he asked, leaning into her hand.

"You can start by stop running away," Ziio said, her voice stern. Someone was yelling outside, loud enough that the muffled words could be heard through the walls.

"I don't run away!" Haytham protested.

"You do! Don't think I don't see it! You have issues with your dad though it looks like you two are getting along fine, and you ran away from our problems by throwing yourself into your work! If we both want this to work again, we have to fix what was wrong," Ziio said.

"What went wrong was you unjustly accusing me of letting Braddock walk free, I—" Haytham swallowed when he saw the stormy look on Ziio's face. "I… had my faults too," he finally admitted. "I should have told you about my involvement with Braddock's case, and I should have tried harder to talk to Charles about his behavior towards you."

"Good, we're making progress. I should have been less stubborn and more willing to compromise," Ziio sighed, "and listen to your side of things when you tried to explain them."

"So… we admit we did things wrong in the past. Where do we go from here?" Haytham asked, taking Ziio's hand, if felt good being with her like this.

"I say we're in a beta test," Ziio said. Upon his blank look she explained. "It's a _Big Bang Theory_ reference. Penny and Leonard have some issues to work out so they decide to do a beta test of their relationship. Where they reported to each other faults in their relationship."

"Oh," Haytham said. "So…"

"We're gonna do the same thing We have told each other our major faults and we will strive to correct them and now and report new faults, as we progress."

"Sounds fair, what about our son?" Haytham asked.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton can help too. If he wants," Ziio said, "though he needs time to adjust."

"We've gotten closer, I think. He still won't call me 'dad' though," Haytham said, not realizing how much it hurt that his own son aled him by his first name.

"Give it time, if he calls you _raké:ni_ , it means he has accepted you completely."

"What does that mean?"

" _Father_."

* * *

Connor didn't want to get out of his bed. He had sat outside on the steps until one in the morning with his grandfather, before going back inside. Edward had taken the couch while Connor tiptoed passed his parents' bedroom. Connor had stopped to stare at the door for several long moments, with a mixture of mortification and embarrassment on his face. His parents had done… things! Things he never imagined his parents doing, though clearly they've done it before if he was standing here staring in front of the door thinking about his parents doing it. He had shuddered before heading to his bed.

Now he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about sex. Girls baffled him, especially Aveline, since she was so unlike the typical girls yet would be extremely girly at times. She also didn't travel in a pack like the girls at his school did.

He also never kissed a girl, though he wouldn't mind kissing Aveline. "Gaaah!" he rolled onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't want to start thinking about kissing Aveline, cause that'll just lead him down a road he wasn't brave enough to explore yet.

"Connor? Connor are you up, your mother is making blueberry pancakes," his father said from the other side of the door. Connor sat up, staring at the door.

"You aren't naked are you?" Connor asked.

"For heaven's sake, no I'm not! Do you want pancake, yes or no?" Haytham asked.

"Um… yes please," Connor forced out. "I'll be out in a minute." His father said something before walking off. Connor sighed, taking a few steadying breathes before he crawled out of bed and got dressed.

He headed out into the living room, smiling at his mother, though it turned into something squeamishly awkward when he saw his parents together. He remembered seeing a clip of some porn video Kanen'to:kon found on the internet last summer, and his brain supplanted his parents' images for the actors. Connor promptly turned five shades of pink and looked away. He saw down woodenly next to his grandfather.

"Ya alright lad?" Edward asked. Connor scowled, though it's withering effect was lost somewhat do to the fact his cheeks were still pink. Edward chuckled and patted Connor on the back. "Wait till ya find a pretty lass, ya won't be able to keep your hands off her."

"Grandpa…" Connor whined. He didn't need this, he was already embarrassed enough with his parents, he didn't need his grandfather piling on the humiliation.

"Dad, please," Haytham said. "Look at the state he's in."

"Killjoy," Edward grumbled, before taking a sip of coffee.

"So… what are we going to do today Hay— Dad," Connor said. "What are we doing today, _Dad_?" The room suddenly got quiet, and Connor felt uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. "What?" he looked around.

"You called me, dad," Haytham said.

"Don't start cryin', Haytham. I don't think the lad can turn any pinker," Edward noted, patting Connor on the back again.

"Someone kill me now," Connor moaned, his face hidden by his hands. Why couldn't his mother just have fled to Canada? Why did she have to get his long lost father involved in this mess?

"We, Connor, are going to domes digging on that night club. I'll have to call Shay to upload all of Braddock's records and bring it over. We might have to get Rafael to sell you some drugs," Haytham said.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton will _not_ buy drugs, Haytham!" Ziio shouted, setting a plate of pancakes before Connor. "Blueberry syrup," she said and put the bottle of syrup before him. She kissed Connor's temple before going back to the frying pan. Connor stared, he wasn't really hungry anymore.

"Hmmm… you're right. I'll get Hickey to do it. He could pass for a lowlife," Haytham mused.

'Do you really need someone to buy drugs?" Ziio asked.

"Maybe, I doubt the cops are willing to help… not without an incentive. Connor tells me that there is a cop working for Braddock. If there's one, there are others."

"Makes sense, since if there weren't that more he couldn't get away with half the stuff he does," Ziio agreed.

Haytham sipped his tea, thinking. Connor stabbed his pancakes violently upon seeing his grandfather's fork inching closer to his plate. Edward chuckled.

"I think Shay has a few buddies in the force that could help We might be able to bust Braddock on drug charges, but… the murder you saw Ziio maybe harder to pin on him. Unless you have a video or know where the body is," Haytham said. "Do you know where the body is?"

"No. He noticed me after he killed the person, but I'm sure the cops would have a case record, they could tie him to the murder if it was due to drug trafficking."

"Which it most certainly was… I'll call Shay, we may go from there, but we need someone in the night club. Hickey is our best option."

"I can sneak in, there's a window on the second floor that was open," Connor said.

"No!"" his parents shouted, tuning to stare at him.

"Are you touched in the head, Ratonhnhaké:ton? You won't be going anything so foolish!" Ziio said sharply.

"But," Connor protested, "I'm the most likely possibility! Hickey isn't a kid. I'm a kid; Rafael will be more willing to sell drugs to me than to Hickey!"

"No, I agree with your mother on this one. You will stay put," Haytham said.

"This isn't fair! I want to help, I can do it!" Connor said, standing up.

"You are our son, and I won't put you at a needless risk," Haytham said. "You may come, but you are to wait in the car."

Connor huffed. "Fine," he said, sitting back down and violently attacking his innocent pancakes. "The pancakes are good, Ista," he mumbled.

* * *

Connor blew on his hands. Shay had come through for them, having gotten the information for Haytham's office computer and delivering it to Haytham's apartment, as well as setting up a drug bust with his cop buddies in the Narcotics department. It took over a month to set up the bust, but they were here now, outside Club Fleur de Nuit on a cold November Saturday night. He glanced at his father, when Haytham rested a hand on his shoulder, before he turned his attention back to Shay and Hickey.

"Why do I hafta do this?" Hickey whined, as Shay jammed a beanie onto his head. Haytham glanced over at the two.

"Because you're the most moronic of everyone here," Shay replied, "plus you're short." He fixed the beanie. "Well, you look like a punk kid."

"I hate you," Hickey muttered, accepting the fake ID Shay handed him. Connor took a step to break the contact between him and his father.

"Remember your script Hickey, you are supposed to get the drugs and then leave the club after a few minutes and come here without being scene," Haytham said.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, I got it," Hickey groused Connor glanced around before slipping into the dark alley behind the black unmarked van that the cops had set up as their base. He held his breath, hoping his father didn't notice he had vanished. Once he was sure he wasn't being followed he turned his phone up and doubled back, taking the long route around to one of the buildings next to the club.

Aveline was leaning against the wall, waiting for him. Gérald had come too, since he was a tech wiz according to Aveline. "Took you long enough," Aveline said pushing away from the wall. She adjusted the collar of his jacket, black to better blend in with the night. Connor blushed.

"Sorry, my dad is keeping a watchful eye on me," Connor said, handing Aveline his phone and accepting the earpiece and wristband Gérald handed him.

"The wristband has a two-way radio in it. You don't need to hit a button, I'll be able to pick up sounds on this end from it. Just talk into it, clearly, and I'll be able to hear you, Aveline will be in contact with you via the earpiece."

"Sweet," Connor said. "You're pretty good with this stuff Gérald." Gerrald smiled slightly. "Alright, the window is in the front, but when we were looking around, I noticed a window in the back that I can get in through," Connor said.

"Be careful, alright?" Aveline said, giving Connor a quick hug.

"I'll be fine, besides if trouble happens, I can get out or find Hickey," Connor said

"Don't get cocky, Connor," Aveline said, her voice serious and her eyes. Connor sighed, looking away. A cat yowled in the darkness somewhere while cars zoomed by along the street. "This is dangerous."

"I know, I won't Aveline," Connor said. "I'll be fine," he said. "I need to get going before my dad finds me."

"Right," Aveline said with a nod. "Oh, and I almost forgot!" she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "For luck."

Connor blushed, before pulling his hood up. He turned to face the dumpster, backed up a few feet before running head long at it. He jumped landing on the dumpster and using his momentum to scale the wall to the first handhold and climbing up the side of the building.

* * *

Once he was on top, it was easy enough to jump to the next building, which led him to be able to jump to the top of the nightclub's roof. He leaned over the edge, finding the back window. He heard a burst of static in his ear. "Connor? Connor can you hear me?" it was Aveline.

"Yeah, I can hear you, what's up?" he asked, speaking into the wristband.

"Nothing, just making sure this gizmo works, how ya doing?"

"Fine, I'm about to get into the club. Looks like this window leads into a backroom office, I see a desk lamp on," he said and peered over the side once more to make sure.

"Great, this may be easy as pie. Get in, get out and have you safely back with your dad before he even notices you're gone."

"That's the plan, alright, I think the coast is clear. I'm going in now," he said and slipped over the side, using the electrical wire pipe as a means to climb down to the window's landing. He bit his lip, muttered a quick prayer before jumping at the railing. He landed against it with his gut, the wind knocking out of him. He lost his grip and fell, only catching himself last minute with his right hand.

"Connor! I heard a loud noise?" Aveline's concern voice came in his ear. He grunted and attempted to grab the railing with his other hand. He missed twice, grabbing it on the third time and hauling himself up and over. He panted, staring at the ground below. "Connor? Connor, answer me!"

"I'm… I'm fine…" he panted into the wristband. "Miscalculated, that's all. Nobody heard me, don't think," he looked around, "yeah, coast is still clear."

"Don't scare me like that again, okay! Jeez, be more careful next time," Aveline chided. Connor snorted as he stood up and closed the gap between him and the window. He slipped inside and landed softly on the inside of the room.

His hunch was right, it was an office room; Connor glanced around, noting pictures and other things here and there. He walked over to the desk and began to shift through the papers, trying to find anything incriminating that'll put Braddock behind bars for life. He found several things, but none big enough, until he stumbled across a folder marked Hits. Connor opened it, eyes growing when he saw his photograph and his mother's with information on them. "Conspiracy to commit murder is a crime, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, why you got something?" Aveline asked, her voice static sounding in the earpiece. Connor flipped the page with his mother's information to see a man that looked like her, dead several years.

"I think we have out smoking gun, I'll be out soon," Connor said.

"Awesome," Aveline said. The door creaked open, and the synthesized beat pounded away loudly until it was shut. "Connor what was that?" Aveline asked, causing Connor to look up. His heart began to beat as he shoved the file into the waistband of his jeans.

"Someone is in here," Connor whispered into the wristband at his wrist. "I don't know who."

"Get out of there, Connor!"

"Trying to! He's coming this way! I'm going to hide until he's gone!" he hissed, glancing around for a hiding spot, he dove into a dark corner as soon as he found it. He stubbed his knee as he did so, an involuntary ow escaping his lips. He pulled his legs to his chest and held his breath, hoping the other person hadn't heard his short cry of pain.

The person came into the dim view of the desk lamp and glanced at the desk. Connor watched as the man shifted the papers on the desk. "I know you are still here," he said in a soft voice. "Best you come out before I find you."

Connor swallowed and tried to take deep even breathes to calm his heart and quiet his breathing. The man left the field of light, walking around the dark parts of the room, out of Connor's line of sight. He wouldn't allow himself to relax. He couldn't, yet when no sound reached his ears, Connor peeked out from his hiding spot to see what was going on. Nothing by the window, Connor looked to the other side and a fist collided with his face. "Gotcha punk!" the man said.

It was the last thing Connor remembered hearing before blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Cliffie! What will happen to Connor!
> 
> Connor loves his mother's blueberry pancakes. Edward does too, thus he was trying to steal Connor's.
> 
> I have nothing really to say about this chapter, expect things are heating up!
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


	18. Fire and Blood

_Twenty-five years ago, Harvard Law School_

The library had this unnatural silence to it, as if the students could sense the hallow knowledge contained within the wall of the building. It unnerved Charles slightly… okay a lot, but so did being partnered with the top student in the entire law program. Charles had only ever heard rumors and stories about this man. Some stories said he came from a wealthy family yet his father only paid for the tuition and books, other stories claimed he is from England, the only son of a poor bookshop keeper.

Charles favorite rumor to scoff at was that Haytham Kenway was a member of a secret order of knights dedicated to rooting out evil in the world. Charles shifted the stack of heavy books in his arms as he made his way to the table, messenger bag slapping against his legs. No, Charles Lee's idea of the fabled Haytham Kenway was that he was just like everyone else… only better.

He smiled to himself, slightly giddy about working with him. He spotted Haytham, hunched over his paperwork, dark hair pulled back into a tail at his nape. He was wearing jeans and an iron-grey polo shirt. Charles felt a pang of disappointment; Haytham Kenway looked rather… ordinary.

He dropped the thick volumes on the table with a loud startling _thump_. All heads in the near vicinity looked over and glowered at him, the librarian scribbled something down on her pad of paper. Charles grinned sheepishly before looking at Haytham. He couldn't contain his excitement and grabbed the baffled man's hand.

"Who are you?" Haytham asked, as Charles vigorously shook his hand.

"Charles Lee!" Charles said a bright breathlessly, as he let Haytham's hand go. He grinned, hoping he made a good first impression. Haytham looked between his work and Charles.

"Haytham Kenway," Haytham said, caution in his tone. "Why are you here?"

"I'm your partner for this project," Charles said, pulling the chair out from under the desk. It whined horrible along the floor, and once more, the librarian scribbled down something. Charles sat, drumming his fingers on his knees. "I already gathered the books needed," he began and pulled the books into view, "we're researching important cases with the insanity defense. I also found some recent ones where it was successful and unsuccessful and—"

"What is that _thing_ on your lip?" Haytham interrupted.

"My mustache?" Charles asked, touching it self-consciously.

"It's hideous, clean it up or shave it," Haytham said, before going back to his work. Charles stared at Haytham before glancing at his work, noting that Haytham's penmanship was neat, tiny and cramped. "Well continue, I was listening," Haytham said, waving his hand.

"Oh, right…" Charles said and began his rambling about the project again.

Working with Haytham was definitely something Charles had to get used to; Haytham had rather high and exacting standards. Not only for himself, but also of the other she worked with as well. Charles never pulled all-nighters before, but working with Haytham he found himself doing just that and pushing himself beyond what his limited were originally. He just hoped it paid off.

Charles met up with Haytham again, at the library three days before their project's paper was due. "Here," Charles said, thrusting it beneath Haytham's nose as he covered a yawn.

"Are you alright?" Haytham asked, accepting the paper from Charles. "You look like a zombie."

"Stayed up all night getting it right," Charles said, sitting down. He wanted to put his head on the desk, but he had a feeling Haytham would tsk at him.

"You didn't have to," Haytham said, making a face. "I could've fixed it." He leaned back in his chair, skimming over the paper. Charles watched, torn between nerves and sleep, as Haytham nodded here and there, marking things with his pen. He handed the paper back once he was done.

"Well? What did you think?" Charles asked. Haytham blinked, before rubbing his face. "Haytham?"

"Oh, it's fine. Well written, very good," he said distractedly. "I'll… just fix the grammar mistakes, alright."

"Are you okay?" Charles asked, concerned.

"I'm…" Haytham stared at Charles before saying, "No. I'm not. I just lost my job at 7-11. I have bills due shortly."

"I thought you were getting a free ride?" Charles asked.

"Birch only pays for tuition and books. Everything else I pay for. I've been living off beans and toast for three weeks, now!"

"Oh, well… I can give you some money," Charles said. "My father is a chair of a company."

"You'd do that for me?" Haytham asked, eyes growing wide and his expression turning into a strange mixture of relief and gratitude.

"Sure, no problem. You don't have to pay me back either, unless you want to."

"A Kenway always pays his debts," Haytham said seriously. Charles chuckled at that.

"Let me buy you a drink tonight and introduce you to my friends," Charles said. "It's Friday."

"I don't know. I need to find another job…" Haytham said, glancing around at the silent library.

"Haytham, it's Friday! You can afford to relax at least one day of the wek. We got our paper done too!" Charles said. Haytham chewed his lip, thinking.

"Alright. I'll do it," Haytham said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"Excellent!" Charles said.

* * *

 

Charles didn't expect Haytham to be so… out of sync with everything. Yet, the man seemed to be a tightly coiled spring as they neared the student bar. Almost as if he was afraid, the establishment would eat him alive. "Did you have any friends growing up?" Charles asked as he led Haytham through the crowd to a table in the back of the student bar.

"Fictional or actual people?" Haytham asked. Charles wondered if Haytham was serious, but knowing what he knew of the man, Charles figured he was.

"Actual people," Charles clarified.

"No," Haytham replied as they reached the table. He shifted uncomfortably as heads turned to stare at him.

"Charlie!" a young man said, his speech slurred with intoxication. "'Ooh dis fella?"

"Everyone," this is my friend, Haytham Kenway," Charles said. "Haytham these are my friends: Thomas Hickey, Pitcairn, William Johnson and Benjamin Church!"

"Hello," Haytham said politely.

"Oy! Barkeep!" Hickey bellowed, "Another round for me and the boys! Got a new fella!"

"Is he always like this?" Haytham whispered, glancing at Hickey.

"Unfortunately," Charles sighed, trying to ignore Hickey and his antics. "Relax, Hickey is mostly harmless, we generally ignore him. You may like William, he's minoring in US History, focusing on the Colonial period and the relationship between the settles and the Native American tribes of the New England region."

"Oh," Haytham said as Charles herded him to an empty chair near William. Charles pressed a beer into Haytham's hand as he took his own.

It didn't take long for Haytham to get drunk. Hickey found this fact oddly amusing. "I…" Haytham began, staring intently at all of them, his speech slurred. He was having trouble focusing and staying on his feet. "I love you guys!" he said with a stupidly big grin before taking a long swallow of beer. Charles laughed along with everyone else.

"I better take the lightweight home," Charles said, taking Haytham's beer from him and ignoring his feeble protest. "C'mon Haytham," Charles mumbled.

"Love you guys!" Haytham repeated, waving at the others, as Charles guided him away from the table and out of the bar.

The fact that he was friends with Haytham Kenway had Charles on cloud nine. They were good friends too, close even. Haytham even offered him advice on his dating troubles, and Haytham gracefully went out on dates Charles had set up for him. Most of their down time they spent together, yet despite their close friendship, Charles always felt that Haytham was hiding something from him.

"Aren't you going to get into the water/" Charles asked, treading the water of the lake. They were at a cabin Johnson's parents' own for the brief summer break between Summer and Fall Quarters, enjoying the last of the summer sun. "Haytham?" Charles asked.

"Oh, what? No… I'm fine," Haytham said, "don't feel like swimming much," Haytham added.

"Reminds you of Eagle's Point?" Charles asked, looking around at the pine trees and mountains that stood silent sentinel around the lake. He heard an eagle cry somewhere in the clear blue sky, birds chirping in melodious in the trees, it was rather peaceful out here.

"I rather forget that place… those memories… never mind. I'm going inside, you… enjoy yourself, have to make sure Hickey doesn't drink all the beer," Haytham grumbled, walking away. Charles shrugged, wondering what Haytham was thinking about.

He didn't quite know how it happened, he never been a strong swimmer, so it could have been that. Whatever the reason, Charles rarely swam due to the fear of drowning again. It was a strange sensation as he floated to the lake bottom. Something had hit him on the head, hard enough to daze him. When he came to he was underwater and he panicked, gulping in water. He tried to surface but his limbs felt heavy and it was just so much nicer to float slowly to the bottom. Amy had broken up with him that week prior, and he'd been in a state of melancholy since. The thing he remembered before darkness took over, were the bubbles from a splash.

He remembered Haytham's face being extremely close to his, and it took Charles a moment to realize Haytham's lips were on his and that he was forcing air into his lungs. Charles squirmed, rolled over and hacked up late water. "Pound his back, Haytham!" Hickey said, and he felt a few thumps on his shoulder-blades as Haytham did so.

"Haytham," Charles gasped, pushing his wet bangs away. "Don't ever kiss me again!"

Haytham flushed. "I was giving you CPR not kissing you, you ungrateful ass!" Haytham snapped, hugging him quickly.

"Thanks though," Charles said when they let go. "For saving my life."

"You owe me, though. Hopefully it won't require CPR," Haytham chuckled. Charles grinned and gave a nod.

"Alright, who's up for a beer?" Hickey shouted.

* * *

 

_Boston, Massachusetts_ _—_ _Present day_

Lee frowned, wondering why he recalled that particular memory all of the sudden. He never did replay the debt he owed Haytham, and considering how their friendship went into a downward spiral when he met Ziio; Lee doubted he ever would.

It also didn't help that Braddock was getting sloppy and Haytham was closing in on the evidence he needed. Lee had to admire Haytham, maintaining his exacting standards as he helped bring down Braddock. Maybe he recalled that memory because he was in some abandoned warehouse in an old industrial part of Boston staring at the battered boy that was Haytham's son. Wondering if this could be the way to repay his long-standing debt with Haytham Kenway. All he had to do was contact Haytham, tell him the location and it would be done.

"What are we going to do?" Braddock asked.

"Burn in hell," Lee said offhandedly. Haytham never really said anything about a family, but Charles knew that Haytham was serious about Ziio. Lee knew just by looking at the boy, that he was her child. _Haytham is going to want blood; he'll burn the city to the ground to get his son back._ Charles thought, looking at the boy. The kid stirred slightly. "Well at least you didn't kill him," Lee said.

"I was thinking he could be ransomed. Get them off our backs," Braddock said. Lee wondered when he became one of Braddock's goons. He was supposed to be the man's lawyer, not an underling.

"No. His parents won't back down so easily, I know them," Charles said, before walking up tot eh boy and untying the gag. "Hello," he said, shaking the child. The boy jerked awake.

"Who… who are you?" he asked, dazed. He glanced around the room quickly.

"Charles Lee. Do you know where you are/"

"No… what do you want?" the boy asked, shifting so he was sitting up right. Lee noted he squared his shoulders and stared at him, like a predator staring down another one.

"Your name for starters, then what you were doing at Club Fleur de Nuit."

"Ra—" the boy swallowed, "Connor Kenway, and I don't have to tell you a damn thing."

Lee chuckled. "You sure have your mother's fire," Lee said, untying Connor's wrists and ankles. "I hope this small measure of kindness will help you reconsider your position."

"What are you talking about?" Connor asked, confused.

"Well, you don't want anything to happen to your parents now do you? Or your grandfather?" Charles asked, watching the boy pale and his eyes grow wide.

"You leave them alone! Just leave them alone!" Connor shouted, he tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs were still numb from being tied up.

"Or what?" Lee asked.

"I'll kill you," Connor spat with such venomous hatred dripping from the words that Lee swallowed.

"I will, if you don't behave. If you do behave and hand over whatever you took if you took anything from Club Fleur de Nuit, and you tell me what dirt your father has dug up on Mr. Braddock," Lee said.

"And if I don't?" Connor asked.

"Mr. Braddock will find your parents and grandfather," Lee said, "and do unspeakable things to them. Unless you cooperate." Charles stood, "you can think about it. I'll be back tomorrow." Lee walked off, watching as Braddock's man closed Connor in the windowless room and locked the only door.

"Do you think he'll agree?" Braddock asked as they left the building. Lee thought about it as he stared at the sunrise over the skeletons of old warehouses.

"The boy is resourceful. Hopefully the threat against his parents and grandfather will keep him inline until this is over," Lee said, "But he clearly has Ziio's fire and if he has Haytham's tenaciousness, things may get… difficult." Lee sighed, remembering the look of defiance as Connor declared that his intentions if anything happened to his family. "Don't do anything stupid until I sort out your mess," Charles said and walked off.

* * *

 

Haytham had searched all over Boston, trying to find Connor, only to return to his apartment emptyhanded. If his heart wasn't already broken, the look on Ziio's voice shattered it. "Ziio, I…" he stopped, knowing that she could see that he didn't find their son. "I'm sorry," he finally managed. He had called her as soon as he realized Connor was missing. The boy was slippery as a fish when he wanted to be. Ziio walked over to him, worming her way into his embrace.

"Where is _he_ , Haytham? You told me he'd be safe! Where is my baby?" Ziio hissed, fisting his shirt. All the fight was gone from her, having been exhausted earlier in their search for their wayward son.

"He… he's reckless. He refused to stay in the van, and he must've slipped away when I wasn't looking. I didn't want him to come, but he insisted and…"

"I know all that! I know he was just trying to help…." Ziio whispered, tears in her voice. Haytham stroked her hair, swaying to and fro in an attempt to soothe her.

"I'll go back out and look… promise. Just let me take a nap first and… I'll find him Ziio. I'll find him if I have to burn the damn city to the ground, I'll find him and the one who took our son."

"Let me look too!" Ziio said, looking at him, her brown eyes wet with tears. He wanted to kiss her, to soothe away her tears. "Let me help!"

"No…" he pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut, "No, I can't Ziio. Ii can't bear to lose you too," Haytham whispered. "Please…"

"Alright," Ziio agreed after a moments, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll just keep trying his phone then."

Haytham kissed her brow. "Thank you," he breathed.

"Get a nap so you can go and look for our son," she said pulling away from him. She patted his chest. "Can't have you keel over."

"Ha," he said, letting her go and walking to the bedroom in a zombie-like daze. "Oh… did anyone call from Connor's phone?" Haytham asked.

"No… I did get ahold of the phone, but whomever has it isn't Ratonhnhaké:ton. It was a woman."

"Did she leave a name?" Haytham asked.

"No, she hung up after I asked for it," Ziio said. "I've been getting his voice mail since."

"Keep trying," Haytham said, before disappearing into the room.

* * *

 

"Augh!" Connor gasped, staring at the door. He huffed before running towards it again, slamming his shoulder into the door. It barely budged. "Damn it," he grumbled as he rubbed his shoulder. He had to get out of here. He couldn't just let Lee and Braddock get away with this! He needed to protect his parents. He charged the door again, only for the door to not budge again. "Damn it," Connor whispered, sliding down the door. He wanted to cry, he wants his parents.

"Oi! Stop that!" said the guard, banging on the door. Connor jerked away from the door, glaring at the man on the other side. Then an idea came to him.

He banged on the door. "Hey, hey! Hey you! I need to go to the bathroom! Can I use the bathroom?" he shouted, pounding on the door. "Hey, can you hear me! I need to pee!"

"Pee in your shorts!"

"No! That's gross! C'mon! Let me use the bathroom!" Connor shouted, slamming his palm against the door, until the guard finally opened it.

"Alright, one trip to the bathroom," he said. Connor slowly nodded, using the motion to take in the man. He appeared to be unarmed. Good, he could run for it without worrying about getting shot.

"That's all I'm asking," Connor replied, leaving the room and heading off in a general direction, until the guard fell instep behind him. Connor walked slowly, thinking about how'd he get out. He noted there were catwalks overhead and a few of them lead to windows. Crates were also in the abandoned warehouse, he could climb up on them to get to the catwalks and then out a window. He wished he could talk to Aveline, but Braddock had taken that and the earpiece off him after knocking him out, and the wristband wasn't strong enough for him to hear what she said.

He passed some empty blue plastic barrels, he casually swung his foot out, knocking them over. The guard yelped in shock and he bolted for it, scaling up the nearest set of crates. He glanced down at the guard that was untangling himself from the barrels before jumping to the next set of crates, which were higher and if he jumped he could just barely reach the edge of the catwalk. He leapt, landing on top of the crates with a thud and a groan, before getting to his feet. He glanced up at the catwalk over head.

Connor squatted low before jumping as high as he could. Luck was with him and he grabbed the catwalk. "Shit!" he muttered as his grip suddenly began to fail. He flailed wildly for a heartbeat or two before grabbing it with his other hand. He adjusted his grip before hauling himself up. "Get back down here, kid!" the guard shouted, spotting Connor on the catwalk. Connor sprinted, bringing his wrist to his lips.

"Aveline? Aveline if you can hear me I'm at an abandon warehouse somewhere," he said, eyeing the window. His eyes grew wide when he saw a guard. It was too late to slow down now, he'd just have to barrel into the man. He tucked his chin to his chest, angled his shoulder and slammed into the man, crashing through the window.

The man he had barreled into broke his fall; he heard the sickening crunch of bones and the man's anguish groan. Connor didn't care, he had to get up and run. He glanced around, realizing he was in the old industrial district. "I'm in the old industrial district, Aveline!" Connor said, hoping she could hear him. He began to run, but his escape was curtailed when a man tackled him to the ground. "Hey get off me!" he shouted, struggling. His struggle took on a frantic edge when he saw Braddock come towards him. He tried to throw the man off him, but he wasn't strong enough and Braddock kicked him in the fact.

 

When Connor came to, he was handcuffed to a pipe and on the floor of the same room he had been in originally. He glanced at his wrist, the wristband gone now. "He's in there, had to chain him up," he heard someone, most likely Braddock, say. He wondered what day it was or what time it was for that matter. The door squeak opened and Connor squinted against the light.

"Connor," Lee said. Connor snarled, straining against the handcuffs. Lee stopped half way. "I thought we had an agreement."

"Go to hell! Both of you!" he spat.

"I really wish you had behaved," Lee said, "I did try to warn you what would happen."

"If you hurt my parents or grandfather I _will_ kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Lee said, he turned to go and took a few steps before stopping, "oh, I came here to inform you that your father was in a horrific car accident the other day and he didn't make it." Lee left the room, closing the door on Connor's anguished bellowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> I didn't… :B I did! Muwhahahaha! The plot thickens!
> 
> Yes, there is a reason Lee got a flashback, you'll find out later why it's important, but it is!
> 
> So last night I found a podcast for AC last night, the bar scene in the flashback is inspired by that. Since, the special guest was Haytham's VA Adrian Hough. I haven't watched it all yet, but it was rather entertaining to listen to. And really interesting too, you get a better understanding for Haytham as a character. ^^
> 
> I originally wanted Aveline to do a car cash, but this morning I got the idea for Lee's flashback and knew it was the right way to go, so I went with it.
> 
> Every time you don't review puppies are killed by Templars. Think of Connor and the puppies.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review.
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Spot the ASoIaF/GoT inspired quote and you get a cybercookie!


	19. Risen From Ashes

It was unfathomably difficult to see his son lying there in the hospital bed with machines hooked up to monitor his vital signs. "Would Dr. Bradfold report to Room 316, Dr. Bradfold to Room 316," the intercom sounded, but to Edward it was white noise, just like the steady high-pitched keep of the machines.

Tessa had been pale and lifeless in a hospital bed, dying from cancer. The world forced him to watch helplessly as she wasted away; it was one of the reasons why he hated hospitals. Edward forced himself to walk over to Ziio, the woman sitting vigil by his son's bedside, Haytham's larger hand securely held in her two smaller ones. "How ya doin' lass?" he asked softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Ziio glanced at him, tear tracks on her face.

"I'm alright," she said. Edward knew it was a lie, and in a way she had to lie, for if she hadn't she would have gave in to her despair and never crawl out of that comforting agony. "You?"

"Dandy," Edward said with a tragic smile. He pulled up a chair and watched Haytham's chest rise and fall, the steady _beep… beep… beep_ of the heartrate monitor prevented the silence from settling over them completely. "He liked eating sardines with mustard on his birthday for breakfast." Edward stared at his son, not seeing the man he had become but instead the boy he once was. "His sister would tease him about it, but Tessa… his mother, would make it for him anyway."

"He never talked about his childhood with me," Ziio said. "I told him about growing up on the reservation, but he never once mentioned his. No… I take that back, he did say he was originally from Eagle's Point."

"Birch must've really messed with his head," Edward grumbled, wishing he had kicked the man tot eh curb the first night Jenny brought him home.

"Who's Birch?"

"His sister's boyfriend at one point. Ya don't know this, but Haytham's mother was my second wife. My first, Caroline, left me and for some reason left our daughter in my care. Jenny, Haytham's half-sister, never truly forgave me for her mother abandoning her. She did everythin' to defy me, includin' datin' Reginal Birch, a man in his mid-twenties, when she was sixteen. Well, it came to a head, Birch shot me in the shoulder and Jenny took Haytham with her. Birch raised Haytham from then on," Edward said softly, looking at his son as he spoke.

"Is that why you and him… act like friends?" Ziio asked, then frowned. "Have a strained relationship? I mean, for the most part you two get along alright."

"Yeah." Edward nodded. "It's the reason. It seems getting back together with ya has allowed him to reexamine his relationship with me," Edward whispered, a smiling appearing on his face. "I've forgiven Haytham long ago; he was just a boy then." Edward looked at his hand, weatherworn and callused from the Navy and the years as a lobster fisherman that followed. "I just wish I could've said sorry. Have ya reported Connor missing?"

"No," Ziio said, "I should but I'm afraid one of Braddock's cop buddies will bury the information and nobody will do anything until Ratonhnhaké:ton's body shows up."

"Don't give up on Connor so easily, lass. He's a Kenway," Edward said, "and Kenways don't give up without giving it all they go before hand."

Ziio sighed, looking at her feet, her hands tightening around Haytham's. "But, the Kenways wear tragedy like a cloak," she whispered.

"Aye," Edward admitted reluctantly, "that we do lass, that we do."

"Excuse me?" a voice said. Edward watched Ziio stiffen and a cold silent fury took over her, like a coming storm out at sea. Mechanically, she put Haytham's hand on his chest before getting to her feet. Edward shifted to eye the stranger, who reminded Edward of an old rich lady's nervous little dog.

"What are you doing here?" Ziio spat with such venom, Edward was surprised the man hadn't died instantly.

"Haytham is my friend and—"

"Leave!" Ziio snarled.

"Ziio, just hear me out, please—"

"Get out now! Don't darken the door way of this room again or I _will_ cut your heart out and feed it to you!"

"If you would just listen you filthy savage wo— _Shit!_ " the man held his nose and Ziio would have punched him again, if Edward hadn't grabbed her then.

"Ziio, lass, he's not worth it. Think of Haytham and Connor, this hagfish's vomit isn't worth it," Edward said, struggling with the furious and heartbroken woman. Ziio thrashed a bit before pulling away to return to Haytham's side. Edward stared at the man that had sent Ziio in such a fury.

"Who are ya?" he asked.

"Charles Lee," the stranger said. "I'm an old friend of Haytham's."

"And ya here because…?" Edward arched a brow. Charles wiped blood on his sleeve. It was from his lip.

"Would Dr. Rothingfuss report to Room 36, please. Dr. Rothingfuss to Room 36." The intercom sounded.

"She's lucky nobody saw that and I'm in no mood to press charges," Charles said. "What Haytham saw in such a brutish sav—" Charles swallowed when Ziio looked at him. "Woman, I cannot say. As to why I'm here, it's to see Haytham."

"You don't you work for Braddock?" Edward asked.

"I am his lawyer, yes, but I'm not one of his paid thug," Charles said.

"What's the difference?" Ziio asked, fiddling with the blankets covering Haytham. "You still accept his money."

"Money is money," Charles replied with a nonchalant shrug. Ziio glowered at him.

"You probably are the reason why Haytham got into that wreck!" she accused.

Charles made a face. "While it's true that I suggest to Braddock he target you and Haytham to keep that brat of yours inline, I didn't recommend he kill him. I was thinking more along the lines of a beating."

Ziio sprung at Charles so swiftly with such wrath that Edward barely had time to grab her.

"Where is he! Where is he! Where is my son! Where's my son you fucking bastard!" Ziio screamed, thrashing against Edward's grip. "Edward let go of me!" Ziio pounded her fists against his arms, but he was use to beatings. "Where's my son? If you have hurt him, I will kill you! Arrrgh! Edward let me go! I will kill you, by all that is still holy, if you harmed my son!" Ziio screamed. "Where is my son! Where is Ratonhnhaké:ton!"

"Ziio, lass calm down, we don't need security coming," Edward said, finally getting his arms over hers, enabling him to pin them to her side. "Calm down, and he'll tell us where Connor is," Edward said.

"I will do no such thing!" Charles said. Ziio snarled, snapping at him like some rapid animal with tears rolling down her cheeks as she strained against Edward's hold.

"Ziio!" Edward growled. Ziio huffed, going limp in his arms after a few moments. "If ya aren't here to tell us where Connor is, then why are ya here?"

"Braddock told me Haytham was dead, I came to see for myself," Charles said, looking at Haytham, lying motionless in the bed.

"Ya saw him. He's alive, no thanks to ya, now leave before I decide to let Ziio go," Edward said, loosening his grip on Ziio just slightly. She thrashed snarling something in Mohawk. Charles swallowed at the sight of the still furious woman; he gave a curt nod.

"Very well," he said and left the room. Edward let Ziio go, he watched her pace like a caged tigress, before sitting down next to Haytham. He picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"Dr. Zinger please report to Room 340. Dr. Zinger to Room 340," the intercom sounded.

"He'll be alright," Edward said, not sure if he was referring to Connor or Haytham. "He'll be alright," he repeated, unsure if he said it for himself or Ziio. He clung to it regardless, hoping it'll be true, otherwise he'll truly be a lonely old man with nobody left.

* * *

 

Lee stormed Braddock's office, with barely contained fury. "You tried to kill him!" Lee shouted. Braddock looked up while Rafael snorted. "I told you to do something to scare Connor not try to kill his father!"

"The bloke's alive?" Braddock asked, bewildered. Lee slammed his hands on Braddock's desk.

"Yes, because the man is bloody tenacious, you moronic fuck! His Mohawk girlfriend nearly tore my eyes out just because I decided to see him at the hospital!"

"How did you learn know he was alive?" Rafael asked, swallowing when Lee glowered at him.

"After I delivered the news to the poor boy, I picked up the morning paper where I read about the accident, and to my surprise it said the drive is alive in stable condition at Boston General," Lee spat.

"I'll fix that. I can get someone—"

"No," Charles snarled, furious. He may not like Ziio, he may be a bigot towards her and her people, and he was helping the man that kidnapped her son and put her lover in the hospital. But Charles Lee also had a sense of honor and it was high time he started listening to it.

"Excuse me?" Braddock said, eyeing Lee.

"I said no. You will do no such thing," Charles said. "You will leave Haytham Kenway alone!"

"I though you wanted him dead?"

"Never! Mugged yes, beaten a bit, yet! But never dead! You don't think Braddock. Not only do you have Haytham's lover wanting blood, but I'm sure as hell that Haytham's son will tear your throat out the first bloody chance he gets! The kid has all the fury of a caged and enraged bear!" Charles said.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Braddock asked. Charles could see that the man wasn't the least bit scared.

 _He should be_ ," Charles thought. _He should be bloody pissing his pants due to his fear!_ "Turn yourself in. That's my last bit of legal advice," Charles said.

"You… you aren't going to be my lawyer?" Braddock asked, and for the first time he was truly scared. Charles smirked. _So now your true colors appear Braddock. Now that you no longer have someone to hide behind you are just a sniveling coward, like every other criminal I've sent to the gallows._ "That's right. I'm done. Haytham's my best friend, and he had always did his best to look out for me, even when our relationship fell apart. I won't let you kill him," Charles said. He leaned in close to Braddock and whispered softly, "you've opened the gates of Hell, Braddock and this isn't even the cavalry charge."

"Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you hated Haytham Kenway?"

 _Why indeed?_ "Because it's the right thing to do," Lee said, "and I never hated Haytham, just his girlfriend."

"You leave this room and I'll make you regret it," Braddock threatened.

"You do that and I'll bring the full power of the United States justice system down around you. You are playing a dangerous game Braddock with a man that is willing to burn in the flames," Charles said, "are you willing to burn along with me?" With that Charles left, he had somewhere to go and something to do.

* * *

 

_A few days earlier_

Connor stared through the rain at the shop in confusing. "You know it's cold and rainy outside, right Dad?" he said, looking at his father. Haytham snorted, as he got out of the car.

"Ice cream is good whenever, now come on," Haytham locked the door, "or I'm going to lock you in the car and eat all the ice cream myself."

Connor huffed, but got out of the car, anyway. "Why are we here?" Connor asked, trying to get an answer out of his father. Haytham just smiled mysteriously, walking through the rain to the ice cream shop. "Dad?"

"Your mother said she'd take you for ice cream from time to time."

"Yeah, when I was five, I'm fourteen now."

"You still like cream right?" Haytham looked at his son.

Connor wrinkled his nose, who grew out of liking ice cream? "Of course I still like ice cream."

"Good." Haytham opened the door, "that's why we're here. For ice cream." Connor snorted, but walked into the shop anyway, his father behind him. It was nearly empty inside, the bored teenager on the other side of the counter was looking at her phone and there was classic 80's rock playing softly in an effort to create an exciting vibe. Connor felt his father stop behind him. "Get anything you want," Haytham said, glancing at the menu then at the tubs of ice cream.

Connor clasped his hands before him, peering through the class at the tubs of ice cream, ranging in colors from blue to pink, a brown so dark it was almost black to a snowy white. "Chocolate, two scoops please, in a bowl," Connor mumbled to the clerk. "Dad?"

"Vanilla," Haytham said. "One scoop."

"Ista would get three scoops of cookies and cream," Connor commented.

"Well, I like vanilla, so I'm getting a scoop of vanilla," Haytham replied. Connor couldn't help but smirk a bit as the clerk went about filling their orders. She handed Connor's order out first, he took it and thanked her before sitting down and slowly began to eat his ice cream. He remembered going to ice cream shops with his mom, and he'd get a big chocolate sundae complete with whip cream, sprinkles, syrup and a cherry. Haytham paid for the treat before sitting down. They ate their frozen dairy products in a companionable silence.

"Thank you," Connor said.

"Your welcome." Haytham stopped eating and looked at his son. "There is another reason I brought you here," he said.

"Great," Connor grumbled, the ice cream suddenly turning bland in his mouth. He was going to get a lecture. Maybe this was how Haytham was going to be as a parent, dupe you into think you're getting a tasty treat then snatch it away because surprise, you're in big trouble. "What is it?"

"Don't take that tone with me," Haytham snipped.

"Sorry," Connor mumbled.

Haytham glared at Connor for a few more seconds before smiling and taking out a slim black box from his pocket. The box had a red ribbon tied around it. Connor arched a brow.

"I know this is incredibly late, and there is no excuse or apology for it being such, but I've missed fourteen birthdays so far. Hopefully, this can bring the count down to thirteen," Haytham said and sat the box before Connor. "Happy birthday, son."

Connor stared mutely at the gift, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He rubbed at them furiously refusing to cry in public, before picking up the little box. He slipped the ribbon off and opened it. Inside was a pocketknife, sleek and shiny with the Swiss Army logo at one end. Etched into one side was _Ratonhnhaké:ton_ and etched into the other side was _Connor_. "Thank you," Connor whispered, squeezing the knife in both hands.

"Eat your ice cream before it melts," Haytham said, jabbing his spoon in the direction of Connor's melting treat. "And your welcome. I hope you like it."

"I'll treasure it." Connor slipped the knife into his pocket.

* * *

 

_Present day_

_My pocketknife! I still have it!_ Connor realized as he tried to lay down on the floor. It pressed against his leg, painfully uncomfortable. For some reason Braddock's goons had missed it. He could use it to escape. If only he could get to it.

Connor wriggled. He squirmed. He shifted every way possible that his battered body would allow him but his pocketknife stubbornly staged in the bottom of his pocket, pressing against his thigh. "Ugh!" Connor rested his head against the ground. He was never getting out of here. He didn't know if Aveline heard his desperate message or not. He didn't think she did, but here's to hoping. His father was dead, and his mother… Connor squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about his mother. He hoped she was okay.

He jerked when he heard a scuffle outside the room he was prisoner in. Connor raised his hands and pulled his legs under him so he could stand up. If it was Braddock or Lee he'd kick them in the balls when they got close enough and then stomp on their heads until their skulls broke like eggs.

The door opened and Connor held his breath, ready to attack whomever it was. His eyes widen when he saw it was Lee. Snarling, he threw himself at the man but his handcuffs preventing him from getting even an inch closer. "I will kill you!" Connor snarled.

"Might want to rethink that boy," Lee said. "Your father is alive. Now if you'd stop struggling, I'll undo these handcuffs and I'll take you to the hospital."

"Why should I trust you?" Connor asked, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Because I'm doing this to repay a debt to your father," Lee said. "Now will you let me help you or am I going to have to knock you out?"

Connor eyed Lee suspiciously but relaxed his shoulders. "Alright," he said, "I'll trust you… just this once."

"That's the most sensible thing you've said to me in our brief acquaintance," Lee said, and walked up to Connor. He unlocked the handcuffs. "Now, let's go."

Connor snorted, rubbing his wrists as he followed his unlikely savior. "What debt did you owe my father?"

"A life debt," Lee said, "he saved my life a long time ago. I never was able to repay him, until now."

"You could've stopped Braddock."

"I didn't know Braddock planned to attempt to murder your father," Lee said as he led Connor out of the warehouse and to his car a few feet outside the building. Silently, he unlocked the car and gestured for Connor to get in. Connor glared, at Lee for a bit, before getting in.

"Now where are we going?" Connor asked.

"I told you, to the hospital," Lee said and started the car.

Lee stopped the car on the opposite side of the street from the hospital. "Here," Lee said, handing Connor a thick file. "This is everything I have on Braddock. All our dealings, conversations, everything you can think of."

"Isn't this a breach of ethics or something?" Connor asked, though he took the offered file.

"This is part of the debt I owe your father. Once you give this to him or someone from his firm, my debt is paid," Lee said.

"That's the only reason you were helping me? Is because of this debt? Why didn't your decide to act on this debt before?" Connor asked.

"Because I didn't expect Braddock to try and actually kill your father."

"Braddock's men tried to kill my mother and me up at Eagle's Point? Or did you not here about that?" Connor snarled.

"Look, I admit I made some mistakes, and I won't apologize for them to you, because it'll be a waste of my breathe. Be thankful that I'm helping you now," Lee spat. "Go, before I change my mind about everything and lock you right back up in that warehouse."

Connor glared at Lee for a few more moments before getting out of the car and running across the street to the hospital.

* * *

 

"Dr. Quiggle please report to Room 118. Dr. Quiggle to Room 118," the intercom said as Connor walked towards the desk in the lobby.

"May I help you?" the nurse behind the desk asked.

"Yes," Connor said, "I'm looking for a Mr. Haytham Kenway. I was told he is in this hospital?"

"He is, but visiting hours for non-family members is over," the nurse said, giving Connor an apologetic smile.

"Oh, I'm his son, Connor Kenway," Connor said.

"Oh." The nurse looked at Connor. "Do you have any—"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Connor turned at the sound of his name, a wide grin spreading across his face at the sight of his mother.

"Ista!" he cried, running towards her and hugging her tightly. "Ista, I'm so glad you're alright."

"We were just leaving," Ziio said, squeezing her son tightly. "Your father's awake, how did… what happened?"

"I'll explain everything, I promise." Connor said, "but I'm alright and we can put Braddock behind bars! Look!" he held up the file.

"What's in that file lad?" Edward asked.

"Stuff on Braddock, but first I want to see Dad."

"He may have fallen asleep again," Ziio said, running her fingers through her son's hair, "but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you woke him up."

* * *

 

Haytham felt like shit. A broken leg, three broken ribs a sprained wrist and a minor concussion. He was lucky he survived, yet he didn't feel lucky. He still had no idea where is son was, and seeing Ziio so broken just made him feel more terrible. He sighed, rubbing his face, wondering how long he'd be stuck in the hospital.

"Dr. Tinkler please report to Room 44. Dr. Tinkler to Room 44," the intercom said. Haytham snorted in amusement at the doctor's name and closed his eyes. He might as well sleep, since that's all he'd be doing for a while. He exhaled slowly, getting comfortable when he heard voices. One of them sounded like Connor's. No, it couldn't be. His son was still missing; nobody had been able to tell him where his son was.

"Dad!" Connor came bursting through the door, a larger grin on his face. Haytham stared, blinking a few times, unable to believe that Connor was standing before him.

"Connor?" Haytham asked, feeling his voice catch in his throat.

"Dad!" Connor crossed the room in a few quick strides and hugged his father as gently as he could.

"Thank god you're alright," Haytham whispered.

"I'm alright, Dad, I'm alright," Connor whispered.

"I know," Haytham said, trying hard not to cry, "I know. I love you, son. I love you so much."

Connor smiled. "I love you too, _Raké:ni_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> And so ends chapter 19 and chapter 20 will be the final chapter. Overall, I'm pleased how this chapter turned out. The hospital scene with Ziio and Edward was my favorite to write. I'm also planning a chapter 21, which will be something of an epilogue of what happened afterward. Aveline was also supposed to be in this chapter, but she'll appear in the next.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this story! It's been fun writing it. I may get chapter 20 up tonight, but definitely tomorrow.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review.


	20. Never-Ending Story

_We're part of a story, part of a tale. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes insane; no one remembers how it began! - Within Temptation_

* * *

_Summer, Mohawk Reservation_

Everything happened quickly after that. Connor had explained to his parents the following day what had happened to him; how Lee had saved him and dropped him off at the hospital with the file on Braddock. Later that day, Connor had went with his mother to Haytham's firm, meeting up with Shay, who also had more evidence on Braddock, they went to the police department and handed over everything. Connor still remembered the look of relief on his mother's face when the captain of the homicide department said he'll take care of everything and that she needed worry about Edward Braddock ever again.

Much to Connor's surprise, they had ran into Aveline after dropping off the files. He hugged her awkwardly, and graciously accepted his phone, which had been in her keeping since the night of his capture. In a way he was glad his mother was with him, since Ziio didn't tease him publicly about the blush on his cheeks after Aveline left. If his grandfather had been here, he probably would never be able to show his face to Aveline again.

Haytham was released from the hospital a few days later. He still needed help around his apartment, so Ziio agreed to stay with him, while Edward took a bus back to Eagle's Point. Connor still couldn't believe it. He had a family, a whole family, like he always dreamed of. It only got better after his father's caste came off, since Haytham was finally able to propose to Ziio, who happily accepted.

There was no grand wedding ceremony. Instead, the three of them went down to the court house where Ziio and Haytham signed some papers, and Ziio officially became a Kenway. That spring they went on a honeymoon of sorts, to the Hoh Rainforest in Washington State. Connor spent that time up in Eagle's Point with his grandfather, and surprisingly Aveline, since one of her relatives lived up there as well and was a crewmember on Edward's lobster boat back in the day. Though neither of his parents were present for his fifteenth birthday, he still got gifts from them, one from his mother and two from his father. He treasured them greatly.

It was now summer, and as per Haytham's agreement they were at the Mohawk Reservation, getting ready to do the traditional coming of age ceremony of… live grasshopper eating. Connor was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, having claimed to have done this when he was thirteen. Ziio had somehow found old ceremonial clothing that her grandfather wore that would fit Haytham.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Raké:ni?" Connor asked, sitting on a log opposite Haytham. He had spent last night with Kanen'tó:kon in the fields, eating grasshoppers. "Nobody will think less of you for not doing it," Connor eyed the gathering crowd of his tribe, a mix of his mother's family and random folk that wanted to see Haytham Kenway make a fool of himself.

"Connor, I'm going to do this. If you say this is an important tradition among your people than I'm going to do it," Haytham said. Many people in the crowd had to bite this cheeks and lips to keep themselves from snickering too loudly.

"Alright," Connor said, "we're ready Grandmother."

Ziio's mother was a tribal elder, and stood only four feet and ten inches tall. Her silver-grey hair was done in two thick braids and she leaned on her gnarly old walking stick. In her hand was a closed jaw, with two live grasshoppers in it. "Remember, no puking for at least two minutes," she said. Connor and Haytham nodded, and accepted their grasshoppers. Connor eyed his for a moment, let out a quick breath and bit it in half before he could think of anything else. He chewed with swiftly before eating the other half of the insect. The crowd gave a small little whoop.

"Go on," Connor urged his father. "Eat it."

"It's just so… ugh," Haytham said, still staring at his wriggling grasshopper. The insect tried to free itself, and nearly succeeded after biting Haytham on the thumb. The bite must've done it for Haytham for he quickly ate the insect, looking horribly queasy as he did so. "Ugh… I think I'm going to be sick."

"You can't puke for two minutes!" Connor said, as the crowd half-laughed and half-cheered at Haytham's success. Connor snorted into his hand, still surprised that his father actually at the bug.

Later, when things had settled down, Connor confessed. "You know there is no such tradition," Connor said, glancing at his father and then the slow moving river.

"I know, your mother told me last night," Haytham said. Connor's jaw dropped, before he smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "But that doesn't mean I can't do this," Haytham said and pushed his son into the river.

* * *

_Eight years later_

Haytham adjusted Connor's bowtie. "There, you look sharp," he said, patting his son on the shoulder.

"Are you sure it's straight?" Connor asked, running his hands along his hair before adjusting the bowtie.

"Leave it alone, otherwise you'll mess it up! It's straight, trust me," Haytham said, slapping his son's hands away from his neck. "Stop being nervous."

"I can't help it," Connor mumbled as he began to pace. "What if she stands me up? What if we get a divorce next month, what if—"

"An asteroid falls from the sky and kills everyone?" Haytham finished. Connor huffed, scowling at his father. "You're going to work yourself into a fit, son. Relax."

"Easy for you," Connor pouted. "You aren't he one getting married."

"I've been nervous plenty of times before, some of them involving your mother," Haytham said. "You should smile; this is a special day for you."

"Do you think she loves me?" Connor asked.

"Of course she does, she said yes," Haytham patted his son on the shoulder. "Now, why don't you get out there and wait like every man has done for centuries."

"I don't think I can… all those people," Connor grumbled.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," Haytham said, though it was slow. Connor looked at his father. He knew when Haytham was serious, since Haytham hardly ever used his first name. "You are finding excuses. Stop it."

"Alright," Connor huffed. He glanced at himself once more in the mirror. "I can't do this," he sighed, deflating.

"I ate a grasshopper, and gods' know what else I've eaten to please your mother and her family! You can do this, son. Now get out there. I'll be sitting down with the rest of the guests."

"Raké:ni," Connor whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Haytham sighed, before a small smile graced his lips. He hugged his son. "I love you too," Haytham said. "Relax, it'll be fine." He pulled away, gave Connor a quick pat on the shoulder before leaving the tiny room. Connor stared after his father before he too left to wait for his bride.

When the music began to play and the doors open to reveal his bride, Connor never expected anyone could look so beautiful. He was proven wrong the moment he laid eyes on Aveline in her wedding dress. The dress was satin and white as new fallen snow, contrasting beautifully with her dark skin.

In a way, Connor was thankful that Braddock was the criminal bastard that he was, for if his mother had never witnessed the man killing someone, she would have never gone to Haytham. None of this would have happened and he probably would be getting married now. Phillipe handed his daughter's hand over to Connor. "Take good care of her," he whispered before kissing his daughter's cheek. Connor nodded, too caught up in the emotion to risk speaking. He didn't really listen to what the priest was saying, he didn't remember mumbling I do either or slipping the ring onto Aveline's finger. He did remember kissing her though. He always liked kissing her.

* * *

_Six years later_

Haytham hung up the phone with a weary sigh. He felt like getting too old for this. His elderly father, who seemed to refuse to die not that Haytham really wanted him too, but still, was asleep in one of the rooms of the house. He and Ziio were in charge of the two little hellions, while their parents were way.

One was a boy, with a serious face and a wavy haired head, his dark locks falling into his equally dark eyes. The other was a sweet face girl that belied her dastardliness, her dark hair done in braided pigtails. "When are they going to be home?" Ziio asked form her seat on the couch, since she was reading a story to the two small children, ages five and four.

"They forgot the cake," Haytham said with some level of exasperation. Ziio frowned.

"How did they forget the cake?" she asked.

"I don't know, but they forgot it!" Haytham said, as he walked over to the couch.

"I'm not getting a cake?" the boy, Edwin, asked.

"No, you're getting a cake, Edwin. Your parents just were silly and forgot it so they'll be back a bit later than what they were planning."

"I'm not getting a cake," Edwin pouted while his sister giggled into her hand at his misery. Haytham wondered which side of the family she got her devilishness from.

"Mama an' Daddy _never_ forget my cake!" Zéphyrine said, she spoke oddly well for a four-year-old, and Haytham liked to think she got that form the Kenway side of things. Edwin pouted and muttered something, which Haytham didn't catch nor understand. Ziio elbowed the boy, which lead Haytham to believe it was something in Mohawk. He'd have to speak to the children's father about what he says in Mohawk, since clearly the two demonically cute things were picking it up.

"Your parents are bring home your cake, Edwin," Haytham assured the boy.

"But what if they never come back?" Edwin asked. Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose.

"They are coming back," Haytham sighed. "Come, lets go see if your great-grandfather is still alive."

"Don't say that Haytham," Ziio chided.

"What? The man is over a hundred," Haytham said.

"An' I'm still right as rain," Edward said from the doorway. Haytham looked at his father, old and shriveled like a prune now, but still right as rain as he claimed. "Death knows I'll fight 'im so he has to take me unawares."

"How does he do that?" Edwin asked.

"By takin' me in my sleep, he's always lurkin' in the shadowy corners, so I sleep with one eye open these days."

"Dad, don't go putting nightmares in their heads," Haytham grumbled as he watched his grandchildren's eyes widen.

"Ya still a killjoy Haytham," Edward muttered as he shuffled over to a comfortable chair. "So, where are they?"

"They forgot the cake, so they'll be here a bit later," Haytham said.

"Really? Forgetting the cake on their own son's fifth birthday," Edward sighed dramatically. "That's bad luck right there."

"Bad luck?" Edwin asked, hopping off the couch and trotting over to his great-grandfather.

"Aye," Edward said, as Haytham sighed in frustration. "When you blow out your candles, none of your wishes will come true."

"Dad, don't go putting such things into his head! He's five-years-old with a very active imagination!"

"My wishes won't come true?" Edwin gasped, he turned his grandfather. "My wishes will come true right, Grandpa?"

"Of course they'll come true, Edwin," Haytham said, kneeling down to face the small child. "All birthday wishes come true, in time."

"Not if they forgot the cake," Edward chimed in.

"You are not helping the situation, Dad," Haytham snarled, trying to keep his grandson from bursting into tears.

"When are Mama an' Daddy coming back?" Zéphyrine asked.

"They said they were five minutes from the house when they called," Haytham said. "Shortly, I should think."

"Zéffie be a dear and fetch your great-grandpa some rum," Edward said.

"Dad, they don't keep rum in the house," Haytham snipped.

"What's rum? Is it candy?" Zéphyrine asked, Edwin perked up too at the mention of candy.

"No, it's not candy and—"

"There is some in my luggage," Edward said.

"We're home!" a woman's voice called out. Haytham glanced at the ceiling and muttered a quick prayer of thanks.

"Mama! Daddy!" the two children shouted, springing up from their seats and running towards the door. Edwin got there before his sister on account of sitting next to Edward's chair.

Haytham watched as Connor and Aveline embraced their children. Ziio had rescued the highly important cake from Connor. "Why isn't his Mohawk name on it?" she asked.

"They couldn't spell it. Even though I wrote it down for them, that's why we forgot it because they had to redo it and we went shopping to pass the time," Connor explained.

"Next time I'm making the cake then," Ziio grumbled, as she walked towards the kitchen.

"Your cakes are like eating rocks," Haytham grumbled. Ziio scowled at him. "Though, I'm sure Edwin would love it," Haytham quickly agreed.

"You know what this party needs," Edward said, getting to his feet with a groan.

"What?" Connor asked, as he shooed Aveline off to get the presents. "We already got presents."

"No, it needs something a bit more lively," Edward said with a mischievous grin and Haytham instantly knew where this was going. Before anyone could stop him, Edward shouted, "Rum and wenches for everyone!"

"Dad!"

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Thank you all for reading. I wasn't planning on having the grandkids appear, but the "they forgot the cake" line wouldn't leave me alone and I wanted to include it in the story. Edwin is five (or just turning five) and Zéphyrine is four.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, especially MohawkWoman, who's constant reviews, living and entertaining discussions help me push on through with this story. She is part of the reason why this story got finished opposed to the fate all my stories end up having: Abandonment.
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, please author follow me for me. I'm planning a Templar!Connor AU, an Assassin!Ziio AU, Edward lives but Haytham is still a Templar!AU, and an Assassin!Haytham AU. As well as various other drabbles. Please check out my profile to see the rest of my fanfiction (mostly Naruto).
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading!
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> I've been playing too much AC lately, and the fandom has bitten and taken old. I don't know where this came from. I was just grabbed by the idea and ran with it. This is planned for a multi-chapter fic, but I have no idea where it's going. All I know is that there is a severe lack of Haytham and Connor bonding stories and, Edward and Haytham bonding stories and bonding stories about all three Kenway men. So, I'm gonna fix it. With this here AU fic! Ta-Da!
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!
> 
> -Nemo


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